What’s your goal in Life?

I’ve told some of my friends that this is the only year I’ve felt like my Lenten sacrifices were worth it. My work speaks for itself. It’s funny to call it a sacrifice because I love it so much. I think Mother Theresa once said that for true love to be true, there must be sacrifice… just like Jesus did for us in the Cross: the best love story ever told.

Living amongst the poor in Banica is both a blessing and a challenge. It is a blessing because you can understand poverty, as you are experiencing it yourself. You don’t have clean running water, a steady power source, a toilet, spare money to spend. You eat the same food every day (yep, rice and beans) and drink water because soda is too expensive. You can relate to the locals when they complain about paying too much for electricity and certainly not getting enough of it. You understand when they freak out about not getting water for 5 days. You share their joy when it rains for 48 hours because it’s good for farming. You share their pains when food and other material stuff is too expensive to get.

This year I didn’t give up as many things for Lent as I did last year; yet, I felt like I was sacrificing so much more. I miss my home, my family, my friends. I miss the unrepeatable deliciousness of my Peruvian food. I miss the comforts of a warm shower. I found myself offering everything up during Lent.. Oh, and it made it so much better! I LOVED spending time with Jesus in prayer…sometimes just complaining about my day to day. All of a sudden the discomforts didn’t seem so bad. Jesus reminded me of the real reason I am here: not to be comfortable, but to be uncomfortable enough to get up and do something for His glory, for Eternity.

My sister came to visit this year. She spent Holy Week in Banica. Everyone said we looked like twins. It was funny: This little girl, Marisol, came into the volunteer house and started asking Valeria all these questions about Easter Sunday thinking she was me. When she looked at her face, and then realized I was in the room as well, she let out this high pitched sound. We laughed so hard! Even though Valeria only spent a few days here, she loved it. The warm affection from people, daily Mass and prayer, the ribbon-dancing girls, all the events for Holy Thursday and Good Friday (not including the whip fighting, of course). When we left to the capital, I saw her crying on the review mirror. It’s hard not to love this place.



During Easter weekend, my dad and grandmother traveled from Peru to spend 5 days with me and my sister. We went to a nice resort in Punta Cana, about 4 hrs from Sto. Domingo’s airport. My dad said he wanted to show me the “vanities of life”.

On Easter Sunday, my sister, grandma and I went to Mass. To my disappointment, Mass was celebrated at a conference room. There was a cantor, and one lector. The attendees were 99% foreign-born, American or European. The Mass was celebrated in Spanish, so no one knew the responses. I was the only one singing along with the cantor. It just made me sad. I wished I was in Banica, celebrating Easter with my people, my students, my volunteer-family. I came out of Mass almost in tears. I couldn’t believe this multi-million resort did not build a decent chapel for its clients. I couldn’t believe they didn’t bring a bilingual priest knowing most of the Mass attendees do not speak Spanish. I was frustrated and disappointed at the lack of joy people had toward the fact that Christ had resurrected.

Serving in Banica for the past 8 months has changed the way I see a lot of things. Growing up in a Peru, a Third-World country, and then moving to the States taught me to be ambitious and to want a better lifestyle. People in the States are mostly self-centered and money-driven. I thought that was the norm. Yet, going back and living in a third-world country, amongst the poor, has showed that there’s more to life than just material riches we call “success”.

Even though the Baniqueros don’t have the financial means to build a cement house, or a bathroom, they have the time to talk to you, to ask you how you are, to care about your problems. They have the faith of a mustard seed, the kind of faith that moves mountains. Even though they can’t read or write, they compose love poems and tell stories that make you laugh til you hurt. They enjoy every bite of rice and beans and tell you to eat more or you’ll get sick.

Thinking back, all the sacrifices I’ve faced were worth it. I’ve learned comfort is only temporary, because humans have a tendency to get used to things (even if they’re not pretty). Even though when I go home I will strive to have a good life, I’m not focused on money, but rather quality-time. Value your friendships, the wisdom of an old person, the trust and faith of a child.

Last year, when Craig’s dad asked me what my goals were after graduation, I told him I wanted to be happy. I think I have accomplished it.




P.S. More on Spiritual vs. Material Riches, come to Theology on Tap this Monday, April 18th at 7pm. Fr. O'Hare and Samantha Kepler will be talking about our mission in Banica.