Quito Quest – dannypeck.net

Remember Your Baptism

The Baptismal font and the “flinger” at Emaús.

As a staff at Soapstone, we have been reading Liturgy of the Ordinary by Tish Harrison Warren. From the first chapter, it has sparked a lot of conversations both about how we are mindful of our faith in everyday activities, but also about having intentionality in all aspects of worship.

I have used many of her examples about Baptism in the last few weeks as I have taught Confirmation and UMYF, and led discussions on missions. The call to Remember our Baptism keeps bringing me back to living in Gaujaló and working at Emaús. At Emaús, the Baptismal font lives right next to the door so it’s easy to touch the water and be mindful of it upon entering for work or worship. When Lourdes was the priest in charge here, she would end every single service by sending water flying with a metal “flinger.” I’m sure there’s some ecclesiastical term* for it, but “flinger” really gives you a picture of what happened. Because Lourdes has an arm. I think she missed her calling as a softball pitcher. When that water was flung at the face, it hurt. You couldn’t help but remember your Baptism.

Lourdes used to use the same flinger, or sometimes a branch, to send water all over the place when she would bless a house for someone who had just moved in (including when her own family and I moved into the house above the tienda). The blessing of the household was a reminder that God is present with us not just in the church building, but all throughout his creation, even what we consider the mundane. My friend (and star youth ministry volunteer) Sylvia remarked recently that her biggest monthly expense is rent, so in being mindful of how she uses her resources, she tries to find ways to use her home as a place of fellowship to glorify God, and I’ve appreciated that reminder as well.

There have been two Baptisms of small children since I’ve been at Soapstone. The first was of an infant who looked over his mothers shoulder the whole time trying to see the font. He wiggled and squirmed quietly, not trying to escape, but trying to get in the water. He just wanted to dive right into the water if Baptism. The second was an elementary-aged girl who seemed very skeptical as Pastor Laura began drenching her, but began to smile as the words of blessing were spoken over her. You could see in the change of her expression the way she was beginning to give in to what God was already doing.

At different times in my own life, I would describe both of those reactions as “mood.”

There’s nothing special about the water in the font, or on the flinger, or on my face or the wall of a home. But there’s a reminder in seeing and touching and hearing it splash of the fellowship and the Grace that we get to live into every day. And writing this post four feet from the font and ten feet from my team members, I’m excited I get to live into that with a new group at one of my favorite places for another week.

*Turns out when I looked this up, even the Catholic supply stores refer to the “flinger” as a “Holy Water Sprinkler.”

Would Jesus Hang Out With This Group?

We gathered for all-block debrief today, beginning with breakfast, worship, and book study at Dani´s house. Our interns are reading When Helping Hurts this summer and one of the questions Thomas asked as he taught the group this morning was “Would Jesus want to hang out with this group?” He didn’t make anyone answer out loud, but even as the conversation moved on, I think we all kept coming up with answers in our head to that question.

Yes, he would, because we are the people who want to follow him.
No, he wouldn’t, because we aren’t the poorest of the poor.
Yes, he would because we’re pretty sinful.
No, he wouldn’t, because we’re the religious leaders.
Yes, he would, because we are building his church.
No, he wouldn’t because we quite often defile his temples.
Yes, he would because we’re pretty dumb sometimes and need to be taught.
No, he wouldn’t because we aren’t always ready to let go of our idols.

I want to be the kind of person Jesus would want to hang out with. But at the same time I want to be so much better than I am so he doesn’t have to waste his time with me. And what’s funny about that is that both of those goals are accomplished by being the kind of person who hangs out with Jesus.

What are you doing these days, Danny?

People have joked around with me for years that they can’t keep track of what country I’m in. But it seems like I can hardly keep track of where I’ve been lately myself.

In February I left my job at First UMC in Elizabeth City. I came back to Ecuador to host two short-term teams and hang out with a bunch of people I love. And those people convinced me I should come back to Ecuador this summer as the Maestro for the Education=Hope program. So I’ve been doing just that, helping to train and supervise both the E=H interns and the Quito Quest interns who are serving with E=H sites and teams.

But in the midst of my preparations for Ecuador, God dropped another crazy opportunity in my path, and after weeks of calls and texts and emails and Skype calls and plane rides, I accepted the position of Director of Family Ministries at Soapstone UMC in Raleigh, which I will be starting in August.

It’s been a crazy few months. It has been hard sometimes telling people what’s next for me, especially because since January, I quite often haven’t known beyond about the next two weeks what was really next for me. It’s about to be a crazy few months as well, because I need to finish well here with Quito Quest and Education=Hope, and dive immediately back into Conference Youth Events, moving to Raleigh, and starting a new job. I won’t be back home in Elizabeth City until about twelve days after I return to the United States, and “home” won’t really be home after that anyway.

I’m excited. I’m terrified. I’m actively trusting God to give me the ability to do all the things that He’s called me to do. And I can’t wait to tell everybody about this whole new adventure.

Maestro-ing

Over twelve summers, I have had a lot of roles in our short-term program. I’ve been a team member, a team leader, a Quito Quest host, a site host and an additonal staff member on teams. I even once helped train a couple of hosts who would both the next summer become my maestros. But I have never actually done the Maestro roll until now.

Since 2008 I’ve been telling people that Quito Quest is the most work not the least sleep you’ll ever get, and I use that statement to make a point of just how much I love this program, because I keep coming back and doing it again and again. And while my perspective has slowly changed over time about how much sleep you actually need to do this job (I’m old… I need way more sleep now than when I was 22), my perspective has changed dramatically this summer on who it is that really has all the work to do.

When you’re a team host, you are responsible for all the people on a short-term team, for their food and housing and schedule and translation and cultural acquisition, and their medical needs. You’re there to take care of them from the moment they walk out of the secure section of the airport until you drop them off right back there eleven or so days later.

When you’re a maestro, you’re responsible for all that stuff, except for the interns, and for three months instead of a week and a half. And when seven of your eight hosts have never hosted before, you wind up being responsible for a lot of their job too, because it’s simply impossible to learn how to do this job perfectly in the two weeks between intern arrival and the start of Block 1 of teams.

An intern asked me after my Basilica orientation, “How much of that are we supposed to remember?” She had this seriously worried look on her face, and I just laughed, and tried to compassionately explain that I’ve been doing Basilica orientations for 11 years, and I’ve been there with all kinds of people, so I have learned a lot about the place. I dumped it all on those unsuspecting interns, hoping they’ll be able to regurgitate 40% of it or so this summer. I want give them all the information and experience and wisdom I have, but I certainly don’t expect them to know cold in one summer what I’ve been compiling since 2007.

Cameron has been laughing at me all summer as I ask deep questions to the interns and then press for answers. She remembers exhausted 2008 Danny who had to be forced to give more than one-word answers. I hadn’t figured out back then that it was okay to be an introvert and an internal processor. But I also hadn’t quite figured out back then how much the staff needed me to get out of that comfort zone and verbally let them know how they could take care of me. She also remembers 2008 Danny who would debrief teams until 11, get home at midnight, blog until 2am, and get up at 5 or 6 to do it all over again, because he thought you had to just run yourself into the ground to lead a team well. And now she’s watching me tell interns to hide out in the book bag room and take a nap or catch up on finances so they don’t have to stay awake so late at night.

It’s also a lot of work to put team hosts together as a pareja and to match those parejas up with teams. Figuring out how to compliment people’s gifts, and how to match them up with projects and team leaders and teams and ministry sites is a giant puzzle. And just as it’s impossible for the hosts to do their job in a perfect way, we (maestros and directors) will never quite get this part of our job perfect either. But I can tell you we talked about it and processed together way more than I ever thought would be necessary.

I love being here for summer, and I love getting to train and oversee all these hosts. But as I jump in and out of teams’ schedules and ministry sites, and do my best to care for our hosts who are caring for them, I have a lot more appreciation for Bryan, Dana, Darío, Christy, Manuel, and Kristin, who were all maestros for me at various times.

Soccer Match

We don’t have sports, plural, in Ecuador, we pretty much just have soccer. And in Quito, for the most part we don’t have fans of different teams: everybody here is a Liguista. So when you are invited to a soccer match, it’s a Liga game, and you had better be hyped for it, and you had better have your jersey.

A number of our team hosts are off this weekend, so they joined the staff and the site hosts tonight for Liga vs. Emelec at Casa Blanca.

Pablo got our tickets this morning, but he clearly didn’t trust the gringos to know how to act at an Ecuadorian soccer match, so he sent us all instructions before he would hand them out.

Blue is actually one of LDU’s colors, but not when they’re home against Emelec, so Pablo was actually trying to make sure we don’t start a fight. And people will definitely fight when it comes to soccer.

It took forever to get on the bus this afternoon because each one that came by was already so full, and everyone at the station was wearing their Liga jerseys, so we knew we’d be crammed in like sardines all the way to the stadium. The general admission seats in Casa Blanca were packed out as well, but it was a ton of fun to participate in singing and cheers and listening to all the fans in the stadium heckle the referees… and the other team… and sometimes our team.

Liga scored a goal early in the second half, but Emelec got a penalty kick to tie, and the score stayed like that the rest of the match. One of the players on the other team passed out due to altitude, which sucks for him, but at least we were reminded that doesn’t only happen to team members. All in all, it was a great cultural experience, something I haven’t done in seven years, and a really cool day off with some of our staff.

Notice who is the only one wearing a Liga jersey.

Photos from Training ’18

I haven’t stopped for a moment to write down all the things I wanted to about Quito Quest training this year. But here is a photographic glimpse of what has been happening for the past couple of weeks.

My guitar didn’t quite make it in one piece all the way to Ecuador.

Liam (4) decided where all the toppings should go on the pizza.

The Youth World team (mostly Casa G) made it all the way to the Finals in the Quito Cup.

A good-looking team and their cheerleaders from Youth World.

Cameron translates Ezechias’s presentation on Africa to the Youth World staff.

A fish farm, as seen from the overlook at the restaurant outside Baños, Ecuador.

The bridge was only a couple inches wider than our bus.

Jorge Luís pouring us some Guayusa in Tena, Ecuador.

The canoe that took us 30 minutes up the Napo River to Bella Vista, Ecuador.

And look at that, our canoe was named “Guayusa” too.

Organizing games with the kids in Bella Vista, Ecuador.

Francis helped make dinner when we got back to Quito.

Italian food during Quito Quest’s traditional “Fancy Dinner”

Fancy Dinner. Absolutely the nicest this group will look during our entire 78 days.

We must be official, now that we’ve got T-shirts. D-boss thinks she’s cool with her mustard “I’m in charge” shirt.

The Education=Hope staff for the summer. Interns Ezechias and Morgan, Director Cameron, Administrator Rocio, Maestro Danny, and Roberto… who may or may not do any actual work.

Ecuadorian intern Pablo… who is frowning because he couldn’t figure out how to change the gas despite living his entire 19 years in this country.

Ezechias and Grace were no help changing the gas tank either, but offered their encouragement.

Día del Niño at Emaús. The kids ministry leaders dressed up as characters from shows and movies.

Marthita’s 19th birthday party during youth group at Emaús.

Up on the roof! Morgan, Pablo, Danny, Grace, Bleu, and Ezechias having a sing-along with photographer Chelsea on her apartment’s roof.

Headed back to Ecuador

If you know me at all, it probably won’t surprise you to hear I’m getting on a plane to Ecuador. And it probably shouldn’t surprise you, because it will be the 13th time I’ve done this since 2007. Through Quito Quest, I’ve been a team member, a Team Host, a Site Host, and a team leader, but I am taking on a new role in a new department over the next couple of months as the Summer Maestro for Education=Hope.

This means I’ll be using my administrative skills to help organize all that our four E=H teams will be doing, and I’ll be training and supervising interns. In the midst of that, I get to hang out at some of my favorite places with some of my favorite people doing everything from ministry with teams to maintaining relationships between Youth World and our partner ministry sites to probably more than a little babysitting of Vivanco children.

Quito Quest has always been my favorite excuse to blog, and I expect working with teams this summer will be no different. So keep an eye on it for my adventures.

Bonus pic:I always love it when I make the Youth World Monday Memo.

Emaús Pics (2016 Day 1)

I like words enough that I don’t always agree that a picture is worth a thousand of them. But here are a baker’s dozen for those of you who do.

The team getting ready to start their day.

Welcome Sewanne team (and Caroline, Danny and Josh)!

One of the walls in the Sunday School room, which was painted 3 years ago by my youth from E.C.

Another one of the walls in the Sunday School room, which was painted 3 years ago by my youth from E.C.

The meeting room upstairs. This just had a concrete floor (and a hole in the roof) during my last visit.

Snack time!

Bending rebar “como varón!”

Bending and tying together rebar.

Up close working on the rebar.

I gave up flipping llapingachos and let Caroline handle it.

Obviously the most important activity of the day.

The Ecuadorians showed no mercy to the gringos during soccer.

The soccer game from above.

The House of Caroline and Danny

Emaús was the very first ministry site I ever visited. So it’s extra fun to go back. But I got that time warp feeling (that I’ve written about multiple times before) when Michelle asked me how I was feeling about serving there.

There are things that are the same, like the rhythm of the day and some of the people who are there. There are things that are different, like all the construction and the fact that Nancy is now the priest there instead of Lourdes. There is history there in which I’ve participated both strictly in the ministry sense and in some more tangible things like the murals my students painted in the Sunday School room.

But one thing that is definitely the same is the level of hospitality. I remember the first day I ever went to Emaús. We had a quick devotion that morning and got to work. Lourdes was walking around with a dustpan and her apron on, cleaning up the sawdust behind all the people who were building tables and cabinets. It wasn’t until she put on her stole 8 hours later for Bible Study and Holy Communion that I realized she was the priest in charge, the person with authority at this church. Up until then, she was just one more of the welcoming, servant-hearted people who smiled and worked with us.

In very much the same way, Nancy got us started today with devo and instructions (after she and Anita came running up to the bus to hug Caroline and myself) and then she jumped into the kitchen for the next 4 hours to start cooking us lunch. The maestros and volunteers were the same way. They taught us quickly, and then jumped in alongside us all, working and talking to and laughing whether the person next to them spoke the same language or not.

By 11:00 snack, Emaús had become a part of the team. They were incorporating this experience into their memories and experiences and their understanding of the world and life and the Gospel. This community has a way of grabbing ahold of you because of the way it exemplifies a biblical community.

When we got ready to leave this afternoon (even with two more ministry days at this site) it was a long process of saying “Good-bye.” Nancy told the group (through my translation) that “This is the house of Caroline and Danny. And now it is your house too.” I thought this was accurate. Emaús didn’t become my home over the 9 years I’ve been going there or throughout the time that I lived in Guajaló. It became a home for me when I first stepped through the door to be met by the love and acceptance and smiles and hugs of the entire congregation. The group doesn’t have the history there that I do or that Caroline does. But it’s home for them now. This is not because of the amount of time they’ve spent in this place, but because both these communities choose to embrace each other in love.

Snot and Tears

When we arrived at El Refugio today and got our orientation to the property and the programs, John told us about Shoeless. It’s something that El Refugio does/teaches about being aware of Gods presence as Moses did in Exodus 3. When God told him to remove his shoes, it wasn’t that the ground on which he stood had suddenly become holy. It was that Moses was becoming aware of it.

Today was a long day of orientations and solo time. A couple of people even said they didn’t think we would do a debrief tonight. And the debrief we did was not the one we planned. But full of hotdogs and cuy, we launched into what began as a simple recap of our day.

What continues to amaze me about Sabbath time at El Refugio is how seriously the teams take it. With this and most teams, we are about halfway through our time on the ground when we go to the property. So the group should be tired. But they’re not disengaged. And as scary as three hours walking around the mountain and listening to God might seem to some, people really do it. So that’s a huge amount of time to process not just what they’ve seen today or this week, but to really begin listening for what they are supposed to do with all of this post-field.

This meant our “simple recap” of the day of and of solo time quickly became 18 of us sitting around the campfire crying our eyes out as we processed where we were and where God was bringing us. Several years ago there was a joke during Quito Quest training that a “successful” debrief meant crying. This is certainly not necessarily the case, but the whole group being able to go to that deep a place emotionally is one of the possible side effects of doing solo time and debrief with the correct attitude. It wasn’t successful because we cried. But we were crying because it was successful.

The issues and the discoveries and the celebrations that came about through that time aren’t things that should be written in a (relatively) public forum like this. Suffice it to say that there were issues worked through. There were discoveries. There were celebrations. There was support. And there was God’s presence. Which is, of course, there all the time. It’s just that we became aware.