Distance & Engagement

Last week, while I was home recuperating from my lovely parasite, I heard that one of our young clients had attempted suicide. One of my coworkers was accompanying me to a doctor’s appointment, and while we waited at the clinic, I asked her about the client. She said, “She tried to swallow…” Before she finished her sentence, I said “Pills?” “No,” she replied. “Needles.” I was taken aback, to say the least. That is a picture of desperation if I’ve ever heard one.

 

I have not lost sleep over this case, and in a way, that makes me feel guilty. Am I numb to such horrors? Or am I just used to hearing them? I am, by no means, a seasoned therapist, but even in the few years in my grad program and as a clinical intern, I have read about and encountered so many horrific cases; and I have had clients of my very own who were suicidal. I can recognize this case as terribly tragic, so perhaps that is a sign that I have not reached a place of “burnout,” yet I almost feel bad for not breaking down over it.

 

It is a strange dance that mental health professionals have to do—maintaining a healthy distance in order to take care of ourselves while also engaging to the extent that we can convey empathy and understand our clients’ experience. Whatever the case with me and my reaction to such stories, I hope and pray that they continue to break my heart and that the Lord will give me the tools and ability to guard myself from becoming callous or unaffected.

What's Boring Is Necessary

Recently, I have spent a lot of time dealing with IT issues and doing other computer-based tasks for the Aftercare department here at IJM-Guatemala. For instance, this morning I found myself practically crab-walking under my desk to switch out the CPU for my computer. And most of today was spent changing the service status of this year's clients in IJM's online database. It's definitely not the stuff of glamour or excitement.

 

I think that we are all intellectually aware that this part of the work of justice and rescue is a reality and must be done; yet, for me, it is still a revelation to encounter it and do it firsthand. It is easy to imagine the rescue from the brothel, the arrest of the pimp or perpetrator, and maybe even the therapy that is delivered after rescue; but at least when I have read and thought about cases in the past, I have not thought about the computer/clerical work, the day-to-day logistics, and the other mundane parts of the system in any depth. The work of justice and providing rescue and healing is a long, arduous battle- full of frustrations, setbacks, and just plain boring work.

None of this is particularly mind-blowing or revelatory, I realize. But knowing something and experiencing/doing it are truly two different things. My hat (or sombrero, rather) goes off to my colleagues here at IJM-G and at HQ and around the world for fighting this difficult fight. I am surrounded by heroes as I type this. And that is the truth!

IJM Mission Statement

To protect the poor from violence by rescuing victims, bringing the criminals to justice, restoring survivors to safety and strength, and helping local law enforcement build a safe future that lasts. 

My Week as a Recluse

This week has been rather uneventful. We had Monday off for a national holiday- Día de la Revolución. It was a good day: I used my bus card for the first time and successfully navigated my way to the mall, where I enjoyed a delicious drink at Starbucks. Yes, Starbucks. Guate is cooler than you think, my friends. I also went to the ophthalmologist, where I learned that my current contacts/glasses prescription is insufficient. Good times! 

I spent the rest of the week as a prisoner in my apartment with the exception of my trip to the ER. It appears that I have a parasite. (It hit me in the wee hours of Tuesday morning.) It apparently happens to everyone who comes down- almost like an initiation of sorts. So I guess you can say that I’ve officially arrived! While it stinks to have missed out on an entire week at the office, I am grateful for the following things: to have a nice, spacious apartment in which to recuperate; sweet coworkers who have checked in on me and even accompanied me to the ER; two grocery stores within walking distance; and the fact that I am now feeling better.

Thanks for letting me share. 

Picasa Link

Guate

Just a good day

Nothing too major to report. I just want to share that today was a pretty great day! Work went well; I was busy making phone calls to confirm attendees for an event we're hosting. I also helped a couple colleagues with their ESL homework. I must admit that I feel terrible for folks who learn English as a second language because it's so irregular and practically devoid of rules. I had lunch at Pollo Campero. For those of you who are unawares, PC is a Guatemalan chicken chain, the likes of KFC but better! (Ironically enough, there is a Pollo Campero right near my parents' house in Roswell, GA.)

This afternoon on our way home from work, my roommate and I stopped at a little kiosk by our place and got snacks. Mine was the most delicious tostadita- like a giant corn chip smothered in guacamole, cheese, salsa, and onions. Yum to the max! Then a friend of my roommate's picked us up and we went to the orchestra. Yes, the orchestra. It was not your typical orchestral repertoire. The theme was "movie theme songs"! They played the themes to "Toy Story," "The Incredibles," "Monsters, Inc.," "Star Wars," "Harry Potter," "Tangled," "Mission Impossible," "Pirates of the Caribbean," "The Simpsons," and a few others. It was quite impressive! We also ran into two of our co-workers, which was sweet.

According to literature related to long-term travel, I am in the honeymoon stage, so it should not come as a surprise that I am currently so enamored with being here; however, since I got off to such a rough start, it is, I think, that much better that I am now enjoying it so much. I have no doubt that there will be highs and lows over the coming months, but for now I want to revel in the fact that today was just so enjoyable!

Get in my belly!

Guatemala: Addendum, of sorts

'Just wanted to "check in" and let y'all know that things are going pretty well. I feel that my last post was a real downer and gives the impression that I am miserable here. It's definitely a steep learning curve, and since I am a perfectionist and want everything done yesterday, it has been an adjustment (and will continue to be, I'm sure).

Each day I feel a bit more comfortable at the office, and I keep telling myself that I cannot expect to feel completely comfortable, competent, or confident. (Good alliteration, huh?) Within that context, I've realized that there is a great contradiction: I so badly want to be helpful and a part of this office, yet I actually dread someone asking me to do anything for fear of messing up or simply just not understanding what I am asked to do. I think that can happen in any arena- for me, at least. If I can't do something perfectly, then I'd rather not do it at all.

That's really lame, I know. I suppose that underlying this internal conflict is nothing more than fear. Fear of failure. Fear of embarrassment. Fear of rejection. Fear of not being "the best." I want that to change. Perhaps that will be one of the many things the Lord will break me of and teach me this next year.

On a lighter note: Today is my birthday! My co-workers decorated my desk, and everyone sang to me after morning prayer time. And my fellow interns took me out for Mexican, where I had to wear a ridiculous sombrero while the waiters sang to me. Despite the embarrassment, I am glad to know where I can get some legit Mexican food here in Guate! I also received two birthday cards and a giant package in the mail!

Hopefully, my roommate and I will have wireless at our apartment soon, and I will be able to post photos!

Oh! My new favorite activity = jumping rope on the roof of my building.

Guatemala: A rough start

I have now been in Guatemala for two weeks. Yes, I can believe it.

Leaving home proved to be far more difficult than I had anticipated, for I had really enjoyed my time with friends and family between camp and my departure for Guatemala. My precious niece, Madison, was born on September 1^st, and I really hated leaving her. I also had the pleasure of traveling all around South Carolina and the Atlanta area to visit friends- what a reminder of how special it is to have solid community…and to just have a good time with others! Given this precious season that the Lord granted me, coupled with my anxiety over this new season of life, I was quite upset to leave home. I cried for about half of the flight down here. PTL, the seat next to me was empty, so I didn’t feel like I was making anyone uncomfortable.  

My first weekend was great (I arrived on a Saturday.). I got to spend it with some fellow interns, two of whom I had the pleasure of meeting at IJM’s Global Prayer Gathering back in D.C. in March. It was nice to have a couple days to get my bearings a bit and to settle in. Then came my first day at the office…

Suffice it to say, it did not go well. I ended up crying and leaving the office. Yes, I cried and ran away like a small child. I am, in general, prone to anxiety, and the great unknown into which I find myself staring has gotten the best of me at times. My mom spoke truth to me that afternoon, reminding me that I am right where God would have me. As she said, the circumstances surrounding my placement here in Guatemala are too perfect for it to be outside His will.

The days since my first have been better although at times I have no idea what I am doing or am supposed to be doing. I have, however, been trying to lean into the truth of God's sovereignty as I seek to find my place and serve here.

Homage to a great dog.

Yesterday, my brother, Vance, had to have his dog, Liza, put down. She was 15 years old and was recently diagnosed with Cushings Disease. While she was technically Vance's dog, she belonged to us all. As my mom said yesterday, "She owned us all." In the time she was with us, our family went through a lot- joys and sorrows alike. I think that is a big part of what makes pets so special- not just the companionship that they provide, but that they are a living representation of what happens in our lives.

I think that for a lot of us, it is embarassing to be so attached to our animals. After all, they are not people. But, honestly, I think it's ok. To an extent, at least. (I mean, buying clothes for pets is crossing a line.)

But back to Liza... I want to share a few memories that stick out:

- When Mom first got her: She had promised Vance a dachshund for quite some time, but it had been delayed for one reason or another. One afternoon/evening while I was at choir practice in Snellville, Mom found an ad for dachshund puppies in the paper. When I came out to the car after practice, there she was! So tiny and wrapped in a towel. I think she just weighed a few ounces. We kept her in Mom and Dad's bathroom, and I remember going in there and sitting with her because I didn't like to hear her crying.
- One evening while Dad was walking her (along with Taffy and Lolly, our other dogs at the time), a neighbor asked if he was walking a rat- because she was so small!
- Vance was the mascot at Ole Miss while he was there, and one break he brought home his Colonel Reb head. I remember him coming into the kitchen with it on, and Liza went nuts! She was barking and hopping back and forth; I suppose because she was scared of him. I can't blame her. People in costumes are freaky!
- One evening at St. Simons, I took Liza down to the beach to walk. It was low tide, so I let her off the leash so that she could run. She went tearing off along the beach but stopped after a couple minutes, and I could tell that she was rolling around. (If you are not familiar with dachshunds, they are notorious for wallowing in anything smelly.) When I finally caught up to her, she was rolling on a dead pelican. And she smelled like death. I could hardly keep from gagging as I walked her home, where she promptly got a bath. Sheesh!

I don't know if this is more difficult because I am away or if maybe it's just tough no matter what. I am glad, though, that I got to spend time with her before I left. She was not herself these past few months, but that doesn't change what she means to us.