I am a missionary. I haven't always claimed that title/role, though. That's because Christian missionaries from America have had a dubious history, to say the least. I believe that now, however, all that is changing.
What is a missionary? A missionary is:
1. someone who attempts to convert others to a particular doctrine or program.
2. someone sent on a mission--especially a religious or charitable mission to a foreign country.
For most of the 19th century it seems, Christian missionaries were mostly (solely?) interested in definition #1. Their mission was to "save" Africans, Latinos, Asians and Europeans by pressing them to convert to the Christian faith. They believed that these foreign peoples spiritual needs (salvation) were greater than their physical needs (food, shelter, etc.). At their best, they lovingly shared the good news of Jesus Christ with people who had never heard of him, and in fact, many people did come to faith in God because of their work. But at their worst, oh boy, where do I even begin? How about a list:
1. Missionaries made the foolish assumption that spiritual needs are more important than physical needs. "Feed their soul, THEN feed their stomachs," we said. Google: Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs to see otherwise.
2. Missionaries naively assumed that African villager X, even though he was raised his entire life to believe (fill in the blank), that he would/should promptly change all of his beliefs and accept Jesus as his personal savior. Oh yeah, and if he didn't he was a heathen destined for hell. Not cool.
3. Missionaries (again, not all, but many) believed that the "rest of the world" (read: uncivilized cultures) should be LIKE US (read: Americans). This one for me is the most unfortunate. Instead of learning from foreign cultures and peoples and being changed by them, we tried to change them to be like us. Que Lastima.
Let me be clear about one thing though: I am living in Guatemala because of Jesus. I'm crazy about the guy and I want to share his love and teachings with others. He's my life and my reason for being. I believe he has sent me (and all of us who choose to follow him) on a mission. My mission in Guatemala is to serve the people of Guatemala by helping to provide for some of their most basic needs (health care, nutrition, education), pray for patients and share my faith in Christ (when appropriate), and be utterly changed and shaped by this beautiful country and people - a country and people that God loves just as much as he loves the United States and the American people. That is my mission. I am a missionary.
And believe it or not, so are you.
Peace,
Jay
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Welcome to the Jungle
In many ways I'm not very well-suited for this job. I'm a people-pleaser, which doesn't exactly work when you have 100 patient forms to give to 250 patients.
This happened practically every day last week while I was hosting our ninth and last team of the summer in Cunen, our most remote clinic. Here's the deal: it's my job to run the clinic. By the time our team of docs, nurses, pharmacists, and helpers arrives at our rural sites by 8 a.m., we've got a line of around 50 people. No problem, I think. On many occasions, however, that number swells to 150 people before lunch. Just to keep everyone's adrenaline flowing, after school gets out and I've already handed out all of our patient forms for the day, we're faced with around 50-100 more "late-comers." This is when the negotiating starts.
I have to protect my doctors and team, who have told me they can see around 100 patients max/day. So it's basically my job to turn-away 50-100 sick Mayans (including children). But they don't leave without a fight. And I don't blame them. This is their only chance for maybe a year to get some adequate health care and meds. So I tell them as nicely as I can that I am SOOOOO sorry, but we simply don't have time to see them. Some take the news in stride, others aren't so kind. I try not to take it personally. They're desperate. This is what breaks my heart and makes me feel like a big jerk.
Ugh. It's like a kick in the stomach.
Chiul - one of the rural communities around Cunen. It was a zoo. One of my doctors called me a "slave-driver." Lesson learned: we need reinforcements.
We just completed the construction on our newest clinic here in Cunen (about 5 hours north of where we live in Pana). We don't have a doctor yet, but once we've got the money we hope to start getting some regular care to this remote village.
One of the highlights of the trip was that my friend and our team driver, Pedro, let me drive his "chicken-bus." It's a 15-gear monster, and it defeated me handily. I think a few of my passengers lost their bowels when I hit a speed-bump going way too fast. They found the transmission somewhere in Albuquerque.
Muchas Gracias Steffie!
A big "thanks" to our good friend Steffie, who was kind enough to spend 5-weeks with Carey and me in Guatemala. Her work/vacation visit really lifted our spirits. We also got to celebrate Steffie's new job while she was in town. Thanks chica!
Introducing...Sabrina
Carey got another gift recently when her new preschool assistant teacher, Sabrina, arrived from Germany. Sabrina will be working with Carey and the kids for one year!
Carey and I hope you're all doing well and enjoying your summers!
Love,
Jay
This happened practically every day last week while I was hosting our ninth and last team of the summer in Cunen, our most remote clinic. Here's the deal: it's my job to run the clinic. By the time our team of docs, nurses, pharmacists, and helpers arrives at our rural sites by 8 a.m., we've got a line of around 50 people. No problem, I think. On many occasions, however, that number swells to 150 people before lunch. Just to keep everyone's adrenaline flowing, after school gets out and I've already handed out all of our patient forms for the day, we're faced with around 50-100 more "late-comers." This is when the negotiating starts.
I have to protect my doctors and team, who have told me they can see around 100 patients max/day. So it's basically my job to turn-away 50-100 sick Mayans (including children). But they don't leave without a fight. And I don't blame them. This is their only chance for maybe a year to get some adequate health care and meds. So I tell them as nicely as I can that I am SOOOOO sorry, but we simply don't have time to see them. Some take the news in stride, others aren't so kind. I try not to take it personally. They're desperate. This is what breaks my heart and makes me feel like a big jerk.
Ugh. It's like a kick in the stomach.
Chiul - one of the rural communities around Cunen. It was a zoo. One of my doctors called me a "slave-driver." Lesson learned: we need reinforcements.
We just completed the construction on our newest clinic here in Cunen (about 5 hours north of where we live in Pana). We don't have a doctor yet, but once we've got the money we hope to start getting some regular care to this remote village.
One of the highlights of the trip was that my friend and our team driver, Pedro, let me drive his "chicken-bus." It's a 15-gear monster, and it defeated me handily. I think a few of my passengers lost their bowels when I hit a speed-bump going way too fast. They found the transmission somewhere in Albuquerque.Muchas Gracias Steffie!
A big "thanks" to our good friend Steffie, who was kind enough to spend 5-weeks with Carey and me in Guatemala. Her work/vacation visit really lifted our spirits. We also got to celebrate Steffie's new job while she was in town. Thanks chica!Introducing...Sabrina
Carey got another gift recently when her new preschool assistant teacher, Sabrina, arrived from Germany. Sabrina will be working with Carey and the kids for one year!Carey and I hope you're all doing well and enjoying your summers!
Love,
Jay
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