One year on
01.04.2008
In January this year I celebrated the completion of my first year in Lima, Peru. So much has happened in my life during this time that it's difficult to believe that 12 months have passed.
I will try to express some of my experiences and feelings.
I remember so clearly arriving here after completing the Spanish course in Cochabamba, Bolivia, anxious but hopeful that I would be able to function. What I didn't know (or understand) then was that, although the language would be a constant challenge and struggle, the constant barrage of ‘foreign' experiences would be the greater challenge and the more important unsettling impact on my life.
There have been many, many challenges; but more importantly I have had many more joys and rewards. The local people are so accepting and understanding of my (often) clumsy attempts to express myself and my obvious lack of understanding of their ways. For all of this I am extremely grateful.
We often talk about ‘having to settle into a new culture' but I suspect that until we find ourselves more or less alone in a foreign land we really can't understand what this involves.
It often seemed to me that those missionaries who have been here for some time have forgotten many of the unsettling cultural shifts they had to make. So often my questions seemed unreasonable or unwarranted to the ‘old hands.' How I have come to fear the expression "It's just over there...."! Often a Peruvian is more accurate in describing where to find a place than the ‘old hands' whom I would have thought could be more precise.
It's amazing how chronically tired I feel in having to constantly deal with the uncertain.
What time will something actually start (or finish)? What food will be eaten (or will there be food at all)? Will I be able to speak or will the music be so loud that I will only be able to smile and pretend that I'm enjoying myself; if we can speak, will the locals remember that I'm a new arrival and so speak to me a little slowly and clearly? It seems that these questions run through my mind most times I leave the security of my house.
I have had to, on a number of occasions, experience the powerlessness of being a foreigner because of my limited language.
I recall clearly trying to assist a young fellow who had been left seriously injured for some days on the side of the road within our parish. Calling in one of our volunteers to help, I had to comfort her when, ultimately, the victim died unidentified in the emergency department of hospital. I remember celebrating weddings and baptisms many times but not having the words or cultural experience to properly express congratulations; the difficulty of trying to discuss various ideas, systems, or concepts with locals without having enough language to keep up with my own thoughts. Eventually, more often than not, I have settled a little frustrated with ‘solutions' that I really wasn't too sure about.
I often reflect on the idea that when we meet with people of limited language (at home in Australia) this lack of language is taken to indicate that they don't know what they are talking about.
Finally, I'll share what I have found to be helpful advice given to me by a fellow whom I consider I can trust: He said to me, "Padrecito, (a friendly way of addressing a priest) I have noticed that sometimes when you don't agree with something and you are frustrated your face turns red and you clench your fists. In Peru we try not to do that but just talk quietly about our difficulties. It might be helpful if you do a little more of that when talking with us and other people." I have tried to adopt this good insight.
My 12 months have been full of challenge but not without rewards.
I have certainly enjoyed life with my new community and look forward to many more positive experiences over the following months.
My admiration for the many people who have made a new home in Australia has increased enormously; no doubt, they experience many similar challenges.
Fr Joseph Ruys is an associate priest working with the Columbans in Peru.
