Jenny's Venezuela trip update (2 months late)

I just read over my entry that I wrote while I was in Venezuela, and I
really didn't get far on it. This much later it's hard to remember
exactly what I thought of everything, but the basic impression I came
away with was that it would be very difficult to live there. I don't
know if I'm starting to romanticize it, but somehow I still feel like
I want to continue pursuing the idea. It would require a lot of major
adjustments to live there (things like boiling water to wash dishes
and takes baths, making a 30 minute outing to get mail, having to get
all of our groceries to the house by public transportation, planning
high water usage things around when the city is pumping in the water,
etc), but I've talked to a couple of people since being in Venezuela
who've helped me to realize that taking 6 months to adjust to a new
culture, language, and way of life is actually very common for
missionaries, and not something to feel guilty about. Probably the
scarier thing, though, is the level of violence. I didn't witness any
violence while I was there, but if we moved there, it would only be a
matter of time.

I think the biggest thing that helped me feel like moving our family
to Venezuela could actually be do-able was Tim's idea that we could
home school the kids for the first 6 months we're there. If we go,
we'd most likely go in the middle of the 2010-2011 school year, and
we'd go on tourist visas. The thought of having to rush down there to
get the kids in school before they give away their spots was really
overwhelming, plus the fact that they might not even be able to get
into school as tourists (even the private schools are partially
government funded). With the idea of home schooling, it takes off the
pressure to rush down, so we can go when we're ready, and we have
until the following school year to sort out visas and school
enrollment. I was also really worried about how our kids would do
with the schools there, but the idea of giving them a semester or so
of home school while they get used to the culture and the neighborhood
and then put them into school seems much more manageable for them (In
other words, I don't feel like I'd be being such a cruel mom.) During
that semester we could also find local tutors who could help ease them
into the culture of the schools there and get them ready to start
school there. (ie They could do things like teaching them standard
penmanship which is very important there. Even high school students
get penmanship homework.)

One thing that the InnerChange team does in Venezuela is what they
call "tarea dirigida" which is a time when they help neighborhood kids
with homework. They also read them stories and sing songs. Every
Tuesday and Thursday afternoon kids show up with their homework. Some
go because they need the help with their homework. Some go because
it's the only place they have books read to them. Others go because
it's a safe place for them to be, unlike their homes. That time was
something that seemed right up my alley. I had lots of ideas of
things I could do during that time. It would also be a great way for
our kids to meet neighborhood kids. (Kids didn't seem to hang out in
the streets much, so we'd have to figure out ways for Alexina and John
David to make friends.) My favorite quote from my trip happened
during that time. I was reading a book to a couple of girls. In the
book a sunflower grows, and the book calls it magic. I asked them if
they thought it was magic. They weren't sure what to think, so I
asked them who they think makes flowers grow. They still seemed
confused, so I asked them who created flowers, and trees, and animals
and me and you. They thought and looked at each other and thought
some more. Then, suddenly one of them figured it out. She lit up and
said, "Simon Bolivar!?"

The thing that touched me the most on my trip was my visit to the
family whose son is in the hospital (from the prayer request I posted
yesterday). They're a family of, I believe, 10 (8 kids and 2 parents)
living in extreme poverty. Their house was only barely a house, it
has a wall on each side because it's between two other houses, and
they have some pieces of wood and corrugated metal patched together to
make a front wall and roof. There wasn't really a back wall to the
kitchen - you basically walked outside to get to the sleeping area
which I didn't go into. I found out later that the mother, Marlene,
struggles with mental illness, so this isn't always the case, but when
I went, she was very welcoming and cleared off barrels and benches so
that we could all have a place to sit (while we enjoyed the birthday
cake for the oldest son - Birgit had made it, knowing that the family
would have forgotten the boy's birthday.) John, Birgit's husband, had
brought his guitar, so we sang songs led by John's guitar and Manuel's
(the father's) voice as he cradled and kissed his new born baby girl.
After we left Birgit commented that they may be lacking a lot of
things in their house, but one thing that's not lacking is love. That
was clear even from watching them just for a few minutes.