Sisters

United Baptist Church Delegation 2003

I came back with much more than I expected from this summer's UBC trip to Nicaragua. For one thing, I returned with a new sister. Isabel Lanzas was my homestay hostess in Leon. We share much in common. We're the same age, each of us is the sole adult in her household, we each care for a young child much of the time. We are both active in peace-and-justice Baptist churches. We are teachers who love teaching. We enjoy singing and are capable of being very, very silly. (I have a photo of Isabel in a clown wig to prove it!) We even wear identical Teva sandals.

Yet the differences between us are formidable: The young child in her care is a granddaughter; mine is a daughter. Isabel's maturity still tricks me into thinking of her as my elder by a generation. Making a living is not a problem for me. Although Isabel also works full-time in the Nicaraguan economy she cannot support herself and her granddaughter, despite hard work. Isabel's son, a construction worker in Miami and separated from his daughter for the past seven years, sends money they depend on, monthly. If my back bothers me, I pop ibuprofen and think little of it. Isabel suffers chronic back pain without access to even the most basic over-the-counter pain reliever. Forget about diagnosis and treatment. Forget about a hearing aid for her deaf granddaughter. Then there are all the other cultural, political, and language differences.

Nonetheless, Isabel and I grew close in the short time we spent together. For hours in the evening, Isabel spoke in basic, carefully enunciated Spanish and patiently listened to my baby Spanish. We conspired to prepare a surprise duet of "Amazing Grace" for the women's group in her church. We played goofy American card games. ("Tu Pesces!") We talked about loneliness and our hopes for the children in our lives. I helped her cook; she helped me wash my clothes. It was not the superficial similarities that ultimately forged the bond. What did it was listening to each other, supporting each other, and having fun together. Despite our differences, we parted as sisters.

As I continue to ponder all I learned about Nicaragua on this trip, it seems to me that the same hodge-podge of connections and differences between Isabel and I describes the broader relationship between Nicaraguans and North Americans. On both sides, there is so much to love and appreciate, so much common ground to share. Yet there is much more that threatens to separate us. So we have to choose which will prevail, the common ground or the differences. The choice to connect, and the capacity to act on that connection, needs nurturing. That is where PMGL comes in.

A bonus I did not expect when setting out for Nicaragua was a lesson learned from PMGL, largely through Heather and Anna, the PML coordinators who acted as our guides and translators throughout the trip. We were impressed with and grateful for all the many aspects of Heather and Anna's work: the rich and balanced itinerary, the careful organization of our living arrangements, the critical reflection times built into the schedule, the lessons on globalization, the opportunity to provide service when we did advocacy training to the PMGL Directiva, and the translation of everything from global economics to scripture lessons. They did their work with remarkable grace, patience and intelligence. And they were just plain fun, to boot.

The main lesson that sticks with me is a lesson about relationships and, ultimately, about democracy. It began during our group's pre-trip preparation when Bryce explained that PMGL's mission is to promote sustainable, long-term improvement in the León communities where they work. PMGL is not about doing short-term service projects. The lesson for us behind this principle continued while we were in Nicaragua. Heather and Anna very carefully and thoughtfully guided us through the complex process of strengthening our partnership with our sister church while helping us avoid decisions that might lead us into a lopsided, dependency, relationship. They helped us think about respectful and effective ways to act on our desire to help, starting with figuring out how our choices in the U.S. affect people in Nicaragua.

When focusing on personal relationships or on community and international relationships, this principle is always the same. It is a hard lesson for those of us lucky enough to have plenty, eager to help our economically weaker friends, and impatient for results. But the truth is that effective solutions can only come from those with the problem. Healthy, long-term relationships require time and personal involvement if both parties are to gain mutuality and maintain self-respect.