November 2007

This month concern for our work was eclipsed by the demands of daily life. First of all, there was the sudden shift from way too much water to way too little. At the beginning of November we were still mopping up the rain that leaked into our apartment because of tropical storm Noel, and then dealing with the mold that grew everywhere. But by the middle of the month the pump had broken and we were left high and dry without any running water. The repairman couldn’t come right away because the storm created a backlog of jobs for him to do. For eleven days we and the seminarians had to get water for all our needs from a ground level hose at the house next door. We toted two big bucketsful several times a day (right), and got pretty ingenious about using the same water for multiple purposes—flushing the toilet with dirty dishwater, for example. Under such conditions April even managed to make potato salad for thirty, to take to the lunch sponsored by the Damas de la Epifanía on the Day of the Family. (Stop and think about all the ways you need lots of water to make potato salad—the kind with boiled eggs.)

Then there were the appliances and utilities. Our new washing machine picked a good time to conk out, since without water we couldn’t have used it anyway. Nevertheless we had to get it to the repair place, and then stay on the case by frequently visiting and calling in order to get it back as soon as possible—in this case within about three weeks. We applied for phone and internet service about

 
For days we had to carry buckets of water from next door to our apartment

two months ago, and they said it would be installed within five days. A large part of life this month has been going to the local phone company office every few days to complain, and then waiting at home for the installer who never comes when he’s supposed to. A Dominican friend filed a complaint on our behalf with public utility commission, which seemed to get the phone company’s attention. But the installer still hasn’t come. And then our DVD player wouldn’t work because it was programmed to play only DVDs coded for Latin American—even though the DVD rental places here have DVDs coded for the US. It took several trips to the store to figure out the problem, and then a couple more to make an exchange. We keep reminding ourselves of the blessings that compensate—like the almost-ripe mangos hanging off our balcony and the bananas growing in the yard.

Mangos will be ripe in a few weeks

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Bananas waiting to be picked

For several weeks April has been filling in at Ovejitas de la Epifanía, the pre-school run by our congregation. There were two full-time teachers, the head and her assistant, for nine children aged one to four. The assistant suddenly quit, leaving the head to keep the whole thing running by herself while also trying to find a new assistant. April stepped in to help in the mornings, when things are busiest. She’s been getting a good workout on her Spanish imperatives—“sit down!,” “don’t put the clay in your hair!” etc.

April with pre-schoolers at lunchtime

Life goes on, despite all these complications. There are still classes for Michael to prepare and sermons for him to write, and piles of library books for April to classify. It’s just that this work—which we usually expect to be the main thing—has had to take second place to all the other stuff. This has made us wonder whether this expectation isn’t another one of the luxuries that our culture makes us feel entitled to (see the October Chronicle). For most people here daily life is pretty much a juggling act, in which work that is hand-to-mouth, or nearly so, competes strongly for attention with whatever vocational work they may have. We can hardly feel sorry for ourselves, and we don’t want anyone else to. We would rather let this experience put the whole business of vocation—God’s call to one’s life work—in a new light.

We missed our usual Thanksgiving dinner with family and friends, but we didn’t go without Thanksgiving. Our yoga teacher, Michaela Tolentino Bonetti, who is Dominican, picked up the custom when she lived in the US for several years. She included us among her approximately twenty-five guests, and spread a sumptuous table that included the traditional foods, but gave some of them a Dominican twist (batata instead of yams, for example). It was a delightful evening. In addition, there was the Thanksgiving Day service annually sponsored by the English-speaking congregation of Epiphany, at which it is customary for someone from the US embassy to read the presidential proclamation. Michael preached to a small group—who were mostly “expats” from countries other than the US!

Our yoga teacher Micaela Tolington Bonetti with her daughter Ana Micaela (left)

Guests on the balcony at Thanksgiving dinner (below, left)

Enjoying ourselves at Micaela's Thanksgiving feast (below, right)

 

Meanwhile, here on the seminary compound our watchdog Michi has given birth to three pups. [photos 8, 9 and 10] We had wanted very much to have a dog of our own, but it just doesn’t seem feasible. Michi, who is now looked after by everyone since her owners, the Garcías, left (see the October Chronicle) has become our surrogate pet.

Michi taking a break from the pups
Cochorro explores the yard
Michi nursing the pups

We were graced by a visit from Charlie Cook, a former colleague at the Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, who was in Santo Domingo for an Episcopal Church meeting. We hope that other old friends will have similar opportunities to drop by.

Finally, as the church here was regrouping after the initial relief efforts in the wake of Noel, the need for a long-term recovery strategy became increasingly apparent. When it comes to physically rebuilding communities, government assistance will be primary. When it comes to ongoing care for the victims of trauma, the church can also contribute. To equip itself for this task, the Diocese sponsored a well-attended Taller de Consolación Pastoral on November 28. The aftereffects of the storm on both church and society will be felt for a long time.

Peace,
April and Michael