Nine and a half months ago Kate left for Colombia as a member of the Young Adult Service Corps. We thought it was a wonderful opportunity for her to improve her Spanish and be a part of a culture perhaps a bit different than that in Maryland. We were to find out that this time away from family was so much more than language or surroundings. But I am getting ahead of myself.
We met Tommy and Kate in Lima, Peru. From there we flew to Cusco and then on to our "adventure" destination of Macchu Pichu. We had an unbelievable time. Seeing and learning about the ancient Inca civilization was fascinating. The majesty of the setting was incredible. After a special five days we flew to Bogota to find out what our "Katem's" world was all about.
Our very first day we were off to Usme - the "closer" mission that Kate and her co-missionary, Brittany, minister to. The bus ride itself was an experience - an hour and a half of belching black smoke from cars and buses that don't seem to follow any specified lanes. The landscape changed from bustling city views to "houses" of corrugated roofs, graffiti and an abundance of stray dogs roaming the congested streets.
In Bogota the bus driver may allow a person or persons to come on the bus to beg. The first was a young mother carrying a little girl that on closer observation had a huge scar covering the top of her head. With Kate as our interpreter we learned that her husband had left her, the child had brain surgery and she had no one to help. The second was a beautiful young blind woman who was escorted on the bus by her brother. I don't remember what her story was but her lovely voice had our fellow bus patrons for the most part reaching into their pockets to give both woman a peso or two. We wondered how anyone living in this part of Bogota could afford to share anything but we learned quickly how even those of little means tried to help others.
It was a pretty sharp climb up to the mission but there perched in between some houses was a tiny church facade with a wooden cross perched on top. We knocked on the heavily locked metal door and were admitted to Kate and Brittany's world. Thirteen adorable faces that lighted up when they saw the girls and Tommy. We were introduced and they all introduced themselves in English. The rest of our time there was spent with English lessons, games, crafts and helping some of the children with their homework. Tommy at 6'3" was a huge hit and he was a natural with the children. Watching from the sidelines were four adults that the pastor of this mission had literally picked up from the streets of Bogota. Four abandoned people - they had no one in the world to take care of them and Father Romeros had taken them in. They spend most of their time just staring out in space or sleeping in their chairs but they have a roof over their heads and three meals a day. We ended our time there with soccer - they have to play on the street. No playground or area other than the street to play.
Soacha, the girls' other mission was an even longer bus ride! But even the long distance could not take away from the shear joy we experienced spending our day with the mostly "displaced" children of Colombia. We had the opportunity to visit a house that two brothers (themselves displaced at an earlier time) had set up to take in families that had left their homes with literally what they had on their backs. Political refugees from their own country!
We asked Kate if she thought she had made a difference or had this experience made a difference in her. Her answer - "both". We could certainly agree. People might say "it's just a few kids" but we could see that her presence, enthusiasm, caring and love touched children that probably received very little if any of the above. The difference in Kate - well as grandparents we are a bit biased. She had always been an amazing granddaughter. Even as a little girl she had that energy that made anything she tackled, whether it be academics, sports or personal relationships special. Perhaps these little observations show best how she has grown in the past nine months. The clerk at the hotel in Bogota calling her by her first name and giving her a hug. The love in the eyes of Myriam her "Bogota Mom" - the sweet smiles of the parishioners of the church as she read the second reading in Spanish - the children of the missions lifting their arms up to be carried or hugged. The respect and gratefulness of the Bishop of Colombia whom we met.
She is the first one to tell you how much she loves what she is doing and how much she loves the Colombian people. We left Bogota with such glad hearts and overwhelming pride.
Toots and Grandpa
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