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February 25, 2002
Dear Friends,
The first time I went to Central America, I was exhausted each
night from listening so hard to a new language. Everything was
brilliant, exotic, tinged with danger and the unknown. I got parasites
and stayed in drafty hostels where the only toilets were miles
away down the hall and had broken (or no) toilet seats. I bartered
in marketplaces filled with colorful weavings, explored ancient
Mayan ruins in the rainforest, and spent a week trying to get
to know my host family through my broken Spanish.
That was in 1992, a month-long journey through Belize, Guatemala,
and Mexico that piqued my interest in Spanish and planted a seed
of passion for the issues, geography, and—above all—the
peoples of Latin America. This interest and passion brought me
back to Latin America in 1994 (Ecuador) and in 1995-1996 to Honduras,
through the PC(USA)’s Reconciliation and Mission program.
Ten years have passed now and I have been living in Nicaragua
for four years—two of those as a Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)
mission co-worker. Although life has settled down for me in many
ways (married with a baby), I haven’t lost the desire to
seek justice and ask questions through the unique lens of Nicaragua.
I work with the Nicaraguan Council of Protestant Churches (CEPAD),
an organization which promotes sustainable development and education
and assists in emergency relief during times of national disaster
or crisis. I work with CEPAD’s "Nehemiah Program,"
which facilitates delegations and covenant partnerships. In the
Nehemiah Office we are four Nicaraguan office staff and two PC(USA)
mission co-workers.
CEPAD’s Nehemiah Office is now located in a building once
used for CEPAD’s mechanic workshop/school, a simple concrete
structure set way back from a main road We’re in a series
of buildings built around a large, rectangular-shaped paved courtyard.
Part of the complex is still painted in a dreary hospital-robe
green with faded blue trim on the outside, bone white on the inside,
and filled with car and truck paraphernalia. Another part of the
complex is filled with old office furniture, homeless after various
CEPAD restructurings during the last ten years that closed offices
throughout the country.
The part of the building that the Nehemiah Office now inhabits
stands out in show-offy contrast, painted on the outside in a
peachy pink with a blue-purple border on the outside foundation.
Inside we are painted bright lime green, lilac, light blue, and
a sort-of sunset pink. It is like being in the sherbet section
of the ice-cream counter. Refreshing.
My work involves various tasks: drafting e-mail to people interested
in bringing a delegation to Nicaragua; working on a mini-orientation
for a group of Nicaraguans gearing up for a visit to their covenant
partner in the North; setting up meetings and planning programs
for upcoming delegations. Other days I visit a Nicaraguan partnership
committee or help facilitate and translate for delegations visiting
Nicaragua through our program. For more information on CEPAD and
the Nehemiah Office, see . E-mail us at and .
As I reflect on those first ventures to Latin America, I see
that my knowledge of this region was a blank slate, and my feeling
that the world was a pretty good place to live was second nature.
I still have so much to learn—and I still love life—but
my journey in the South has introduced me face to shadow side
of the sunny world I perceived as a child and young(er) adult.
Going to unknown and uncomfortable places brings perspective to
your life and can bring you closer to seeing someone entirely
different from you in race, religion, social class, or politics
as he or she should be seen: as your brother or sister.
Journeying into what is not known or comfortable or easy has
formed a cornerstone of my Christian faith. I believe that crossing
borders, physically and metaphorically, is what God calls us to
do when we are able. By sending Jesus into a life of poverty and
hardship—and not into a king’s palace—God experienced
the ultimate cultural exchange, the border crossing of all border
crossings.
This is what I do: pave the way for people to have a journey
of a lifetime to an unknown place that reflects the level of poverty
in which 80 percent of the world’s population struggles to
survive. I have borne witness to scores of personal transformation
in members of delegations from the North. Coming here is a wake-up
call for many, a true "conversion" experience for some.
A chance to connect as brothers and sisters, children of one God,
with Nicaraguans; a chance to be exposed to the reality of misery
that certainly exists but is perhaps easier to ignore in North
America; a chance to gain new insights into one’s own culture
by being in a foreign one.
Today in church we reflected on Jesus going up on the mountain
with Peter, James, and James’ brother John (Mt. 17: 1-9).
The disciples seemed reluctant to come down from the mountain.
But they had to return to the places where people needed to hear
the saving word of God—that good news was being brought to
the poor and healing to the sick.
It’s nice being on top of the mountain, but we cannot stay
there. My prayer for myself and for you is that we recognize the
moments when we must go to the mountain for renewal (we all need
to go there sometimes), but that we walk down from the mountain,
go to the edges, cross the borders, like Jesus did.
Sincerely,
Ellen Sherby
The 2002 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 251
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