Jeanna and I arrived in Argentina about 2 weeks ago. We got in at 4:30 am and realized quickly that we should have learned more Spanish and packed warmer clothes. We waited in the airport for the sun to come up before searching for the bus stop outside and passing by all the tourist shuttle busses that would have got us to the hostel easily, but for 20X the amount that the local bus would.
I shivered in my sandels and capris as all the local Argentianans starred at me in their winter jackets, hats and scarves. We weren´t really sure what bus to get on and no one around seemed to know English so we just stood there hoping that we would figure it out...a while later an airport employee came over and told us the bus number. We then got onto the bus, unsure of where to get off and unable to communicate to the bus driver. We didn´t know we couldn´t pay with bills and we didn´t know that he was telling us this so we got yelled at in Spanish and stood there dumbfounded. We finally sorted matters out and crammed into a seat with our backpacks and tent wondering what to do next. I also started wondering why I was here. Did God simply bring me this far to strip me of all of my pride? I figured it was going to be a long two weeks.
Luckily we made it to a hostel and the people there spoke English. We put our bags down and instantly made friends with Sebastian who invited us to share mate, a strong herbal drink that is very popular here (which I may have a slight addiction to now). Sebastian worked at the hostel and decided to befriend us, either he saw us as two down to earth girls or took pity on us...I´m not sure, either way I´m thankful that he approached us. The next day he picked us up and we went to a park and cafe where we talked for hours getting to know each other. Than he invited us over to his house for dinner and to meet his mom and sister.
I am so thankful for Sebastian and his family because I don´t want to simply be a tourist wandering around lost in a big city in another country, I want to enter the homes of the people that live here and learn about Argentina through them.
I knew that God brought me here to do more than simply humble me, although He has done much of that and I am thankful.
The next day we struggled to take a bus 50 km to General Rodriguez to stay with The 12 Tribes Community there.
We were welcomed from the moment we arrived at the community and my bag was on someone elses back before I even had the chance to say "hola". Many came to meet Jeanna and I and learned quickly that we knew very little Spanish. We were sat down at a picnic table under the afternoon sun and asked many questions (in spanish) that we were unable to anwser. After several akward minutes passed two younger women approached us who spoke English and they proceeded to introduce us to their lives in community as they showed us around the house and gardens. Everyone was in the yard playing volleyball or soccer and others were sitting around talking on this beautiful day.
At 5pm we all came together for mate, home made bread and a teaching. Minha followerd, minha (meeting) happens twice a day at the community and consists of joining together in a circle for song and dance, sharing ones innermost thoughts, and then prayer. The music in the community is simple but beautiful with guitars, flutes, and an occasional bongo always accompainied with singing. After minha we were introduced and everyone said "Welcome Home" and clapped for what seemed to be too long of a time. We were then taken upstairs to our bedroom with all the other single girls and had a bowl of fruit, flowers and a card waiting for us on our beds.
After sharing a hearty meal with this tribe of about 50 people we went to bed.
I was inspired from the moment I arrived by the simple expression of love that is expressed in this community. However, I spent my first few days wondering if this was a cult or if all these people were brainwashed. Never before had I been woken up at 6am to people singing to me outside my bedroom door as an alarm clock. Nor had I witnessed people who were happy all the time. I didn´t feel this happiness in the structure of the days that all seemed exactly the same to me.
Monday thru Friday looks like this:
-Wake up at 6am to singing
-1 hour of preparation for minha, clean clothes must be worn, our beds should be made and we should go downstairs around 6:30 and read scripture with the community by the fireplace waiting for the horn to sound at 7 for minha to start
-Breakfast typically of rice and salad for strength for the day
-Work from 8:30 to 12:45 (for us this means practicing our Spanish in the garden while we get dirty)
-Lunch at 12:45 of salad, rice and beans followed by Siesta until 2:30
-Work from 2:30 to 6 with a break at 4:45 for mate and yogurt with granola and fruit
-1 hour of preparation for minha
-minha
-dinner typically of bread, soup and salad
-dishes under the stars and more spanish lessons
-bed time
The next day it all starts over again. The first day we spent 8 hours preparing an area of land that was once forest for a garden bed. It was hot this day and I not only sounded ridiculous with my 10 words I knew in spanish, but I looked ridiculous because in order to respect the modesty in the community I had to not only cover all my skin, but wear very loose clothing so I had on about everything I owned with a brown dress on top complete with dirt on my hands, feet and face as I discovered later.
On Friday we got to work in the bakery and we made about 100 loaves of bread and ate about 3 each, I felt as though I was pregnant with a loaf of bread at the end of the day, but I would go back and work there every day if I could.
Friday night is time for celebration for the work week is over and the Sabbath day (Saturday) is coming. Everyone puts on their finest clothes (we continued to play dress us in our roomate/translator/friend Hannah´s clothes). The night was full of song and dance and lots of good food. The joy in the home was contagious and I began to look around and see the faces of friends rather than strangers. I went to bed happy and full.
Saturday, the Sabbath day litterally consitted of eating, resting, eating, resting and more eating before resting. I spent my day reading and writing and enjoyed it thouroughly.
On Sunday Jeanna and I walked down dirt roads, passing many stray dogs and a few horse and buggies with locals delivering goods, to meet our friend Sebastian in town. He treated us to a traditional Argentinan lunch of meat. He said it was his religion. A small grill was brought to our table with steak, chicken, and many parts of the cow including its liver and brain...so much for being a vegetarian. After lunch we spent the day in the park.
Throughout my time with the community a battle warred in my mind between my resistance and adoration of their life. I especially didn´t like how everyone who was able to speak to me in some way made it clear that the only true way to live for Jesus was to live within a 12 Tribes Community which are over the world with many in the U.S.
I hated that my faith seemed belittled and this filled me with pride and frusteration. I found myself looking for faults in their lives so I could justify these feelings inside me, but I failed to find any.
I was humbled and surrendored my frusteration and resistance to the love of God that truly does embody this community. Will I say that this is the ONLY WAY to truly live for Christ-NO, but I will boldly say that it is a beautiful life that is lived out collectively as a community very closely to the way I believe God intended and desires for us to live.
Never before have I witnessed people who truly seek to live and honor the Lord in every moment of their lives. Never before have I seen love among people so selfless and powerful. Never before have I met people with greater joy than these.
I asked God for forgiveness for any negative thoughts I had this week about the community. I realized that these people aren't conforming to a life or brainwashed by some teachings-they are simply responding appropriately to love. A love that that has freely been given to them. The love that created them, has forgiven them and renewed them. A love that provides for them, guides them and protects them. God's love. They are filled with this love and it pours out of them and has infected me.
I left the community Wednesday morning with gratitude and love for all of these people and a prayer that I was leaving with a better understanding of what it looks like to love one another. I prayed that I was leaving with less pride than what I came with, a bigger appetitie for the Word of God and a more sincere desire to worship God in all the small details that make up each day.
At first I was resistant to their lifestyle and the commands it placed on me. I learned through this that it's ok to let go of my beliefs so that my heart has room to recieve and expand. I realized that letting go of my beliefs doesn't mean abondening them, it simply means laying them down, humbling and opening myself to learn new things. Once my heart is open I can better recieve the good and beauty in their lives and then filter what I've learned through what I believe and know. If I don't lay down my beliefs first, resistance will rise and my judgement willl keep me from growing and loving. I realize that this year I'm going to be entering the countries, homes and communities of many who share differenet beliefs and live different lives than I do and I hope that this experience will help me more quickly lay down my opionions and and open up my mind to recieve from them.
