Realization
So, I’ve found a little bit of worthy journaling to do, taking some time about for something that’s important at this point. This past weekend, I was sick. Really sick. Fever all weekend of around 102, terrible aches, horrendous headaches, and temperature swings like I were Jim Thome taking hacks at good breaking pitches. So, after I managed to get over 3 days of hell, I’ve just concluded, jódelo. ____ it. I’m just gonna finish this out, and I’m not gonna be counting down the days or be depressed that I’m still here. It’s been hard, it’s been good, it’s sucked; now I try to figure out what it means for my life, and go home and have some good food and good drinks with the fam. But before we do that, there’s still a whole lot of time in the middle. It may seem like less than a month, and you would be correct; but yes, that can be a long time in El Salvador.
I had a meeting with Tom today at Jugolandia, an awesome little establishment that makes a million and one combinations of fresh-squeezed juice drinks. Amazing, as today I went for orange, carrot, and strawberry. This stuff would be a good 4 bucks in the States, and it’s only 1.25. Highly recommended combination, if you’re into good tastes. Yeah, so Tom and I discussed some shtuff and enjoyed some drinks. He shed some awesome light onto a lot of difficulties I’ve been having (keep an eye out for this name in 10/15 years, Tom Gill, as he’s going places). Anyway, I figured I’d share a little with all ya’ll (that one goes out to the Southern readers). A big topic of conversation among those thinking about social justicey issues—I try not to take this too seriously, but damn they are important—and those who have confronted poverty head on and attempt to integrate that experience fully in their lives, is that of how much is enough for solidarity? I’m currently writing a reflection on the meaning of “solidarity” to me, and I’m hitting a big writer’s block of a wall—not only because I don’t friggin know my definition but also because my concept is getting battered by those around me. A common, almost, trait among some people in this realm is to try to be the most “just,” to solidarizar yourself the most with other people around the world. That’s great, don’t get me wrong; if you want to work in a refugee camp, more power to you. I’m glad there are people in the world like you to do that. However, the sad thing that happens is that it almost becomes a competition, and if you don’t make it to the quarterfinals, you’re looked down upon. I shouldn’t have to feel like I should have to work in refugee camp to be in solidarity, that if I really enjoy good beer then I’m a terrible person. I have my own vocation, which I’m trying to work out (obviously), and if that’s to live in a city and work for justice that way, then that’s fine. That’s more than fine, that’s what’s for me. You can have your own life, and that’s for you. A lot of times, I myself (and know that others have the same tendency here) can get caught up in this flurry of expecting such things out of myself. Of expecting me to be more this way, that I need to be able to wean me off of that life, to be able to sell my things and stay down here or move to Haiti. No, I need to discern that for myself, and if that’s what God is calling me towards, than I do that. Not because of your life, but because of my own. I need to find out what it is that’ll get me out of bed every morning, what’ll provide me true happiness. Because most likely, that’s where God wants me, as Tom put it. God doesn’t want us to be miserable, he added, and I agreed. My whole life is in front of me, and all I have to do is pay attention to God’s call (seems a lot easier right now, doesn’t it?). That’s a wonderful thing of being this age, though, and having the blessing of being born with so many opportunities: I can figure out my vocation and if I have enough self-determination (which I believe I do), I can realize that life. If I choose I want to go to Uganda to live for a year after college, then I’ll do that; and if I want to get a master’s in Spain, then I’ll do that. Gotta thank the parents for the amazing sense of self-efficacy and the endless, loving support that has given me the confidence to take these great leaps in my life, especially over the past year.
One other interesting piece of the convo that I figured would be helpful to share has been a common struggle among many of us, and that is our level of freedom here and also that of the States. I can say for myself that I usually take it for granted, as all of the places I’ve lived I feel safe to walk alone, explore, get in transportation and go somewhere, go to a museum, sit in a café, go somewhere at night to get a drink, so many things. Here, you’re limited. It’s not just safety issues but a symptom of Salvador. I’ve found that I’ve missed a lot of these things, specifically that I’ve lacked outlets I typically have. Simply walking to class or walking through the streets with my iPod, taking the subway to get some food, getting in my car to go to a friend’s house, grabbing pizza at 4 in the morning, whatever. And yes, we have that freedom in the US, the great majority of us. Even in the Bronx I can do that. Here, it’s not that easy, and many people don’t realize it right away, but it takes a toll. Hard. What it has helped me to understand (along with Tom) is how damn lucky we are for this. We need to appreciate our freedom, a lot of which comes from economics. And, we need to take advantage of our opportunity, not abuse it.
Anyway, I used to think my desire to return to Spain after graduation was a bad thing to want relative to this environment here, but today I realized that perhaps the year or two of service after college (what I had planned) maybe is not just right for me. I know this will continue to nag me during the coming year, that I will have friends just like those here who will be almost self-righteous in their beliefs about solidarity. I just have to keep searching for that vocation to which God is calling me, and somehow, some way, it’ll all work out, verdad? Yep, I just heard you say, it will indeed.
Love everyone, and wish me luck in this last time here, por favor. Paz y amor—
AMDG,
Anthony Joseph Damelio III
I had a meeting with Tom today at Jugolandia, an awesome little establishment that makes a million and one combinations of fresh-squeezed juice drinks. Amazing, as today I went for orange, carrot, and strawberry. This stuff would be a good 4 bucks in the States, and it’s only 1.25. Highly recommended combination, if you’re into good tastes. Yeah, so Tom and I discussed some shtuff and enjoyed some drinks. He shed some awesome light onto a lot of difficulties I’ve been having (keep an eye out for this name in 10/15 years, Tom Gill, as he’s going places). Anyway, I figured I’d share a little with all ya’ll (that one goes out to the Southern readers). A big topic of conversation among those thinking about social justicey issues—I try not to take this too seriously, but damn they are important—and those who have confronted poverty head on and attempt to integrate that experience fully in their lives, is that of how much is enough for solidarity? I’m currently writing a reflection on the meaning of “solidarity” to me, and I’m hitting a big writer’s block of a wall—not only because I don’t friggin know my definition but also because my concept is getting battered by those around me. A common, almost, trait among some people in this realm is to try to be the most “just,” to solidarizar yourself the most with other people around the world. That’s great, don’t get me wrong; if you want to work in a refugee camp, more power to you. I’m glad there are people in the world like you to do that. However, the sad thing that happens is that it almost becomes a competition, and if you don’t make it to the quarterfinals, you’re looked down upon. I shouldn’t have to feel like I should have to work in refugee camp to be in solidarity, that if I really enjoy good beer then I’m a terrible person. I have my own vocation, which I’m trying to work out (obviously), and if that’s to live in a city and work for justice that way, then that’s fine. That’s more than fine, that’s what’s for me. You can have your own life, and that’s for you. A lot of times, I myself (and know that others have the same tendency here) can get caught up in this flurry of expecting such things out of myself. Of expecting me to be more this way, that I need to be able to wean me off of that life, to be able to sell my things and stay down here or move to Haiti. No, I need to discern that for myself, and if that’s what God is calling me towards, than I do that. Not because of your life, but because of my own. I need to find out what it is that’ll get me out of bed every morning, what’ll provide me true happiness. Because most likely, that’s where God wants me, as Tom put it. God doesn’t want us to be miserable, he added, and I agreed. My whole life is in front of me, and all I have to do is pay attention to God’s call (seems a lot easier right now, doesn’t it?). That’s a wonderful thing of being this age, though, and having the blessing of being born with so many opportunities: I can figure out my vocation and if I have enough self-determination (which I believe I do), I can realize that life. If I choose I want to go to Uganda to live for a year after college, then I’ll do that; and if I want to get a master’s in Spain, then I’ll do that. Gotta thank the parents for the amazing sense of self-efficacy and the endless, loving support that has given me the confidence to take these great leaps in my life, especially over the past year.
One other interesting piece of the convo that I figured would be helpful to share has been a common struggle among many of us, and that is our level of freedom here and also that of the States. I can say for myself that I usually take it for granted, as all of the places I’ve lived I feel safe to walk alone, explore, get in transportation and go somewhere, go to a museum, sit in a café, go somewhere at night to get a drink, so many things. Here, you’re limited. It’s not just safety issues but a symptom of Salvador. I’ve found that I’ve missed a lot of these things, specifically that I’ve lacked outlets I typically have. Simply walking to class or walking through the streets with my iPod, taking the subway to get some food, getting in my car to go to a friend’s house, grabbing pizza at 4 in the morning, whatever. And yes, we have that freedom in the US, the great majority of us. Even in the Bronx I can do that. Here, it’s not that easy, and many people don’t realize it right away, but it takes a toll. Hard. What it has helped me to understand (along with Tom) is how damn lucky we are for this. We need to appreciate our freedom, a lot of which comes from economics. And, we need to take advantage of our opportunity, not abuse it.
Anyway, I used to think my desire to return to Spain after graduation was a bad thing to want relative to this environment here, but today I realized that perhaps the year or two of service after college (what I had planned) maybe is not just right for me. I know this will continue to nag me during the coming year, that I will have friends just like those here who will be almost self-righteous in their beliefs about solidarity. I just have to keep searching for that vocation to which God is calling me, and somehow, some way, it’ll all work out, verdad? Yep, I just heard you say, it will indeed.
Love everyone, and wish me luck in this last time here, por favor. Paz y amor—
AMDG,
Anthony Joseph Damelio III
posted by Anthony Damelio at 8:18 PM
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