Pico Project Update

One of our goals at Pico Escondido is to continually improve it. From the start, we have invited work teams from the US to come help us make Pico Escondido and excellent place for meet Jesus and grow in their faith. Each year we identify our top priorities for projects, and those projects that have enough tasks that are appropriate for volunteers we complete with work teams as we are able. It is fun to see progress, not only for Pico staff, but for the volunteers who have worked on these projects and people who regularly come to Pico. This Spring I was speaking with the director of a Christian school in Santo Domingo that has multiple retreats at Pico every year. He told me that one of the reasons he loves coming to Pico is that while many facilities he has visited steadily degrade year after year, Pico continues to steadily improve. Below I will paste some sequences of pictures of projects from this year to show how they have progressed. We had 173 work team participants in the March and April, two small teams last week and next week, and then we will have about 150 more people come in June. Most of the projects we started in March we hope to finish between now and the end of June to once again present a "new and improved" Pico Escondido to five weeks of outreach camp participants in July and August. Stay tuned for more pictures.

Enramada (Dining Hall) Improvements

Starting demo work to make way for new roof columns

Wall Going Up

Roof Columns Going In

Siding Being Prepped

Siding Being Installed

Almost Done!

Parking Area Improvements

Clearing and digging first footer

Starting walls

Blockwork done and base coat of stucco on

Amphitheater

First Aid Hut

Old Rock Work Removed

Walls Started, Sidewalk being Repaired

Walls Almost Done

Walls Done, Ready for Roof Forms

Giant Swing Gazebo

Benches Getting Installed

Benches Sanded

Benches Stained

Door Installed

Thanks to all who worked on these projects!

Sixty Lessons I Learned From My Mother (Part 2)

This week, as I celebrate a baby's third month and soon another one's nineteenth, I am particularly touched by the lessons I learned from doña Elsa regarding motherhood.

To Love Children. This one, I think, was a non-negotiable for her. Perhaps she just couldn't help herself. She loved every child she met. Every. Single. One. She took delight in each baby she held - their cry, their smell, their coos. She loved talking to toddlers and finding out who they were. She was fascinated to hear stories and jokes from older children, and enjoyed giving them presents. She simply loved children, and was a grandma to many.

To Keep Your Children Close. So, the story goes like this: In the five years between me (the oldest) and my next brother, my mom had three miscarriages, thyroid problems, rheumatic fever, and a heart infection. Needless to say, she spent a lot of time in bed, and in order to keep up with her toddler/preschooler, she started asking me to come to bed and share with her what I was up to. After a while, and regardless of her health, the tradition stuck, and even as teenagers and young adults, we would all end our day in my parents' bed, sharing with mom about what had happened to us, our dreams, heartaches, dilemmas, life. And she kept us close to her, taking us wherever she could, getting us as involved in what she did as possible, not missing a chance to spend time with us.

To Let Your Children Go. And as much as she kept us close, she let each and every one of us go. At eight, she dropped me off for my first two-nights-away-from-home camp. At thirteen, I started spending part of my summers working as a volunteer at a camp. And at eighteen, she dropped me off (her only daughter!) at the airport, to send me to a school she wouldn't get to see until my junior year,  her only previous contact with the school being the international students director she met only once during a one-hour interview.

To Let Your Kids Be Themselves. Letting go of us came together with the fact that she let us be ourselves. Don't get me wrong - the woman didn't take any crap (from nobody), so there were things we could never get away with. But the superficial, peripheral details, she chose to not fuss over. Like the two times I pierced my face. She knew each of her children to be different, and delighted in each one.

To Teach Your Children How To Think For Themselves. This one is tricky. You run the risk that at some point, your children won't think like you do - which happened to her on many occasions.  But she loved us more than she loved her opinions, and she taught us how to think and develop our own. I can still hear her say ¡Usen su cerebro... no el mío! (Use your own brain, not mine!).

To Celebrate Your Kids. Sometimes, we would come inside after an afternoon of playing, and she would start singing "A Very Merry Unbirthday To You!" and we would discover she had baked a cake and decorated the house for an unbirthday party. Birthdays were a big deal - we got to choose our own cake, months in advance (from the one and only cake decorating book she ever had), and she would deliver...every time. (I think my dad can build a cake mold in pretty much any shape you need). And Children's day in our house was a full blown-out extravaganza.

To Dream With Your Kids. She listened to each one of our dreams. Some of them happened with time; some of them she pushed us to make happen. Others are still in dream stage, and some of them might never come to be. But she dreamed with us, and never underestimated or ridiculed what stirred up our hearts. If it held our gaze, it was worth it for her to look at and admire also.

To Teach Your Kids How to Stand Their Own Ground. Again, another one that can backfire, because a lot of times we were standing our ground against her. But I am glad she taught me well how to say "no," and also how to say "oh yes, I will."

To Love Your Children's Friends. My friends were always welcome in our house. She was a friend to them also. She cried with me over the ones who passed away. She celebrated their exciting news as if it had happened to one of her own kids. This meant the world to me, and I know also to the many friends who got the chance to get to know her.

To Let Your Children Know You. We got to see her as the whole person she was - not just as our mami. She let us know her passions, her wit, the way she lived her faith every day, the things that made her tick, her heartaches, her hardships. She allowed us to see her at her brightest and also at her darkest. She lived an open and honest life with us, and by doing so made ours so much fuller.

Of Sheep and Thieves

Our life tends to be pretty full. All I have to say is that we have two boys 18 months old and younger, and you parents will understand that our life is full these days. "Full" encompasses a lot: busy, joyful, tiring, rewarding, and sometimes scary. This week has taken it a little over the top. On Saturday night I walked outside to turn off the sprinkler. Up to that point it had been a pretty normal Saturday. After that it got interesting.

We have a few sheep. Why we have sheep and what we have learned is a story for another day. Two of our sheep have been pregnant. When I walked outside to turn off the sprinkler about 10pm, I heard the sounds of a baby sheep bleating. Lamb and momma looked healthy, but when I walked around, I realized that there was another newborn a few feet away, stuck in a wood pile. Thankfully this one was also healthy, although a little weak from struggling in the wood pile. I called a friend who knows more about sheep to ask a couple of questions, and he came over to check things out.

After he left, things began to get stranger. I found a home-made ski mask on the ground behind the house. All of you stuck in the grip of winter may think this is normal to find a ski mask. In the Dominican Republic, you don't need a ski mask for the cold. So I immediately went inside to find out whether there was an innocent explanation. In a Young Life household, props from skits and games with teenagers can frequently break out into daily life, but Rebeca and Sami had never seen the mask before. It was a sleeve from a black T-shirt that had been sewn up and had holes for eyes and mouth cut into it. Yet it was very small, so we were left wondering whether thieves were casing our house or my friend had been playing batman with his five-year-old.

I locked up the house, then went to bed about midnight. Rebeca is a night owl, and also addicted to a television series on NetFlix, so she stayed up watching the series and washing dishes. Yet she kept hearing strange noises outside. Several times she peeked out the window, but she could never see  anything abnormal. When she came to bed at 2am, she told me about the noises, and as we were speaking we heard something that can't be explained by our dog or the night breeze, so I jumped out of bed and grabbed a flashlight and went to check things out. When I got to the kitchen, there was a 2x4 stuck between the door and the frame. While we are not always the neatest family in the world, my 2am brain quickly lept to the conclusion that there was a malevolent act in progress. The door was only secured by a slide lock up high since we have bars on the outside laundry area. When I stooped down to take a quick look at where the 2x4 led, there was a guy sitting on the floor who had already made it through the bars on the back porch and was about to make it through our wood door as well. I yelled at him, and ran to get an army surplus machete I keep in the bedroom and wake up Rebeca and Sami. The machete is evil looking, and I hoped that the look of it would be enough of a deterrent to keep me from actually having to use it. Rebeca got David into our room and started trying to get in touch with the local police.

Fortunately the thieves had not finished breaking down the door. We heard two motorcycles crank up and leave out at the street, but we also kept hearing noises. When you are juiced on adrenalin and fear, water dropping from the roof is a footstep and the rustling of leaves a crowbar prying. There is no 911 service here (they are starting it in the capital, but not in our small town). We called our local police station, and they responded "we'll see if I can find a patrol car to send your way" with a tone of voice that said "No blood? Nothing stolen? Don't bother us." After a few minutes we began calling friends with influence with the police and finally got one of them to answer that late at night. Five minutes later a police pickup truck with four officers arrived to see if there were still bad guys around. They had big guns, but no flashlights, so we loaned them a couple and made rounds with them of the outside of the house and the yard. The thieves had gone, but it was clear that it had been a minimum of 4 people. They had also been trying to break into the upstairs apartment that is furnished but unoccupied. Satisfied that the bad guys were gone, the police left and we locked back up.

As I sat with David (our 18-month-old) in the pre-dawn stillness my mind and heart continued to race. I struggled to keep from imagining new intruders. I prayed a lot. I gave thanks that in the end, the thieves had not stolen a thing except our sense of security. I had found them before the door gave way and not cornered them inside the house where they might have drawn a gun. After a while with these thoughts, I resorted to what I do in the face of challenges: I began to make a list of things we could do to increase our security. Yet I am very aware that our only true security comes from God. I could work hard, spend lots of time and money to beef up security and create new security processes in our family routine, but there will always be holes in our physical defenses. The Lord Almighty is our only true security. I am trying to help my trust catch up to my words and allow Him to be our refuge. Please pray for us in this process.

Sixty Lessons I Learned From My Mother (Part 1)

In a little bit over six weeks it will be my mom's birthday. She would have turned sixty this year. I imagine that we would have been planning a big bash - a party with a lot of her friends and family, perhaps a trip to Panajachel, her favorite vacation spot. I like to think I would have baked the cake, gone shopping for a new outfit with her, and that her friends would have taken over the preparations for her party.

Alas, she is no longer with us, but that is not enough reason to not take a moment to remember her legacy and celebrate the life of a woman who marked so many of us. So, I have come up with a list of sixty lessons I learned from her and will be posting weekly. I am sure there are plenty more, but here are some of her pearls of wisdom, in no particular order.

To Laugh Out Loud. Without reservations. Even if you look like a crazy person. Her belly laugh could fill the room, and it encouraged me to enjoy life to that extreme. To the point of tears rolling down your face, and your belly aching, and your cheeks being sore from so much delight.

To Sing With All You've Got. My mom loved singing, and she had a beautiful voice. I remember being a preschooler, sitting in our living room, listening to her practice a special song for church. Later in life, I loved accompanying her on the piano. It was not only that she had a great voice, but it was also that she moved you. You couldn't help but want to belt out singing when you were standing next to her, regardless of how good (or not) you sounded.

To never underestimate the power of a nap. She usually got up at 4 or 5 a.m. and would take power naps whenever possible. In the car. The couch. The desk. Sometimes even when you were telling her a story.

How to read. She taught me not only how to read but the love of reading, and cultivated in me the insatiable thirst for books. In doing this, she opened a world of imagination and growth that I continue to enjoy to this day.

How to write. Not only the skill itself, or that she took pains in helping me develop good handwriting, but she also showed me that grammar and spelling do matter. Beyond that, she also helped me develop the ability to express myself through writing. 

To Pamper Your Kids. Throughout my life, I heard her say time after time that nobody else in the world was going to care about pampering her kids, so she wouldn't hold back. Beside my husband, I have experienced first hand the truth of this statement, and now that she is gone, I am so glad she pampered me like she did. I am glad that she didn't think twice all the times she spoiled me rotten - dropping in at my apartment unannounced when I had told her I had a cold to just make me some soup, and then buying me something she knew I wanted, or just playing with my hair like she knew I loved... I am glad that she knew exactly what I liked, and that she let me know in so many ways that she was thinking of me, because in loving me, she taught me how to love. As a mom now, I highly value this, and the only thing that every once in a while makes me sad, is to think how much she would have enjoyed pampering my boys (and how much they would have enjoyed her doing so!).

To Speak My Mind. Clearly. With aplomb. In truth, with love, in honesty. Even when it is not convenient for me. Even when it might get me in trouble. Even when what I will say may not be welcome. Even when it means confessing I have messed up pretty badly.

To Be Hospitable. One of my favorite things growing up was all the people we had over for dinners and staying at our house. I loved the stories, conversations, and learning about different cultures through all the folks that came by. To this date, this is one of the things I truly enjoy. (And as we used to joke growing up, it's always a fun excuse to have dessert).

That Nobody Can Steal Your Memories. Granted, you can hit your head pretty badly and some of it could be gone, but she taught me the value of memorization - Bible verses, poems, songs - she always said that this was something that couldn't be taken. She would say "nothing can guarantee you that one day you won't be without books around you, or that you will be free always, so learn it, store it in your heart, in your mind." In her last months, when she was too weak to even sit up, let alone read, I would find her sometimes mumbling verses or poems that she had memorized throughout her life. And she was right... that was the piece of her body that went unscathed. 

That Women and Men Are Equal. Growing up I didn't fully understand how much she shaped my life by allowing me to live this truth, to grow up knowing this - even to the point that when I went out into "the real world," I was shocked to find out that this was not a truth that was universally acknowledged.  This was particularly key given that I was the only girl with three brothers in the house. I admit that there were times I felt embarrassed when my mother would serve her 20 minute speech of why-my-daughter-is-not-treated-different-than-the-boys. I thought "what's the big deal?" "Why are we making such a fuss about the way we live our lives?" "Can't we just live and let live?" I felt like the poster child for a campaign I hadn't chosen. When I was older, I would feel frustrated, even angry, when I would see the cost of her struggle to live this truth. "Why doesn't she give up this one time?" "It's not like it makes a difference to her." But, doña Elsa, now I get it. I get it now, after ten years of mentoring teenage girls. I get it now that I am an adult woman. I see the damage and the colossal collapse we bring to our societies when we allow the lie that men are superior to women to go unchallenged. And I am now speaking truth - and serving that 20 minute speech to whoever needs to hear it

.

Where are you going for Spring Break?

Work team season is here. Spring break in North America means that thousands of students and their leaders will embark on a short-term mission experience to different places, through different organizations, and a lot of them will come to serve alongside Young Life in the Dominican Republic and Central America. A typical work team is a one week experience, with a chance to work either at a Young Life camp or a neighborhood, doing construction projects, and possibly a homestay with local families. Also it might mean you get to see an amazing beach in the Caribbean, or take a hike up a  volcano, or see the Panama Canal.

Working at Pico

There has been plenty written about the good, the bad, and the validity of short-term mission trips - I won't go there now. If you are interested in a good read about service in other cultures, though, I find this article very insightful. What I would like to focus on in this post is what it means for us to enter this season of the year.

YL Athens leaders working in Panama

Homecoming. For us, it is a season of friends coming back to their hometown. Except it's not their hometown, but ours. Yet, for a lot of folks, the place where they go year after year has become a second hometown. And for us, it feels like they are coming home, too-  we have kept in touch, we have exchanged plenty of messages throughout the year, learned about their family struggles, and they have prayed for ours. We are just happy to be able to see those familiar faces again.

Chickenman. OK, the official name is Gilberto's Pica Pollo, but the Chickenman, which up until last year consisted of a street cart with plastic chairs and tables set up on the sidewalk, is the place to get the best fried chicken (I won't say ever, because there are Guatemalans in this family, and also a southern man, so talking about best fried chicken can get personal). But, every week, there will be a dinner out there, and youbetcha the Cliffords are joining you.

Our inbox goes out of control. For Roy, it is a six-week-extravaganza of work teams coming and going through camp, and he is directly involved in the preparing and on-site work. For me, doing operations in Central America, it means that I get to be in the loop for every team going through our region. My involvement varies. In some countries, we have a large team of staff who handle all of the logistics. In other countries, however, we may only have one or two people on staff, and this means I end up helping coordinate transfers, schedules, and different details.

Rebe showing how to hang up clothes in Guatemala.

We get a new perspective. We get to see our normal day-in day-out in ministry from a different perspective - what a week out of the ordinary is for our friends. It is normal life for us, so we gain a window of objectivity about our local ministries. The questions asked about how or why things work a certain way give us a chance to step back and evaluate what we do, how, and why.

We run a tight ship. Even though as a family we are pretty flexible, there is no way we can do this without set schedules, clear communication, and very realistic expectations. Sometimes, it will mean I am working at midnight. Sometimes, it means Roy starts working really early. Sometimes one of us misses a meal. And we guard our "time off" more closely.

Our life is fuller. Because in the midst of all the emails, and the delayed flights, the moments when you hear your self saying (again) "I don't think it's a good idea for you to pet the stray dogs," the crazy schedules, the fact that people want to not only see but be part of our life here is a huge encouragement.

So, if you are about to go on a work trip, or at some point decide to go on one: First of all, thank you! Thank you for taking your vacation time to come and get your self all muddied up. We are really excited that you are here. Second, as my friend Chepe Verde used to say, I invite you to not see this as an opportunity to do good work, or to build bridges between cultures, or to help the needy - as great as those things are. I invite you to take the unfamiliarity, all the joy, all the filth, all the sweat - everything about your week - as a chance to follow Christ. Welcome the disorientation, the fact that you are away from comforting places and routines, the fact that you will not be able to communicate effectively, the frustration, as a place of reflection. Pay attention to whatever God is doing in your life, and keep paying close attention to it during the week.

Island Living: Cooking

I love cooking, and one of my favorite things is to try new recipes. This week I decided that I wanted to start learning how to make a few Dominican dishes. I grew up in a family of incredibly adventurous cooks and bakers. My mom's kitchen was a mix of Italian cooking and Southern baked goods (so, yeah, I fear a gluten allergy more than death itself). My grandma would always find the most random and delicious recipes to try out (don't even ask me what happened after she got cable T.V.). After I moved out on my own, I discovered curries, and my life was changed forever. All that to say, my extent of Guatemalan cooking is limited to huevos revueltos scrambled eggs (this is an international staple, but I need items),  frijoles volteados - refried beans, and plátanos fritos - fried ripe plantains. Which means that I can't do anything if I don't have enough oil to deep fry a turkey. And don't ask me about tortillas - I love eating them, but I don't even like waiting in line to buy them.

After moving here, people who came over for dinner would ask me if they would be eating a traditional Guatemala dish. (Does Pad Thai chicken count?) Lucky for me, I'm married to a gringo, so I can always say "no, we'll be eating some traditional American food today." (or Pad Thai chicken). But I didn't want to be in this country and miss out on the opportunity of learning how to make at least one Dominican dish. So, after Roy came with a bunch of guandules that have grown along our fence, I asked our friend Yudi to teach me how to make Moro de Guandules - Rice and Pigeon Peas. I love me some moro. It's the perfect side dish to pork or chicken. I recommend rotisserie chicken, personally. Here's how you make it:

Make sure you have all the ingredients (See list below). It's important that you ask your friend who's teaching you what these are. If you don't have all of them, in great Dominican, or Latin American style for that matter, walk over to the closest tienda, colmado, pulpería (convenience store). We're lucky to live next door to one, so I was able to gather all my goodies in no time.

Ingredients (makes 4 servings):
1 medium onion, cubed
3-4 garlic cloves, pressed
1 Tablespoon oil
1/4 cup of chopped cilantro (Although you can just add a whole bunch to remove later, if you prefer)
1 celery stalk, chopped (can also add whole if you wish to remove later)
1 cup of pigeon peas (can be fresh or canned)
2 Tablespoons tomato paste
2 teaspoons soy sauce
1 bullion cube
2 cups of white rice (uncooked)
5 cups of water

Directions:

First, make sure you start this when the infant is sound asleep and the toddler is within sight, otherwise, allow yourself a couple hours to make this - or be flexible in your expectations (i.e. can have it for lunch or dinner).


In a medium saucepan, heat oil and sauté onion and garlic until golden. Then add cilantro and celery, and cook for about 3 minutes. You may want to add the cilantro and celery whole if you would like to remove them later. I added them chopped, and it worked out great. While doing that, you may want to keep an eye on the toddler who is now standing on his stool right next to you (watch out for that knife... and the matches).

Onions, garlic, cilantro and celery. notice the guandules on the far right.

Next, add the guandules and cover up. Let them cook for about 5 minutes. In the meantime, you may rearrange your entire counter top and clean up any spices that may have been spilled by the self-appointed sous chef. Make sure the spicy spices are definitely out of reach, and for crying out loud, put the matches in another room! After you see that the guandules are softening, add the tomato paste until well-blended. Then add the soy sauce, and mix well. Now you have something that looks "neither too red nor too black" (in Yudi's words). That's what you're going for.

"Ni muy roja ni muy oscura"

Then, add the water. Now, add the sopita - bullion cube. I was about to protest at this point, because up until then, the sopita had never been mentioned. However, I was met with such a gaze from Yudi when I said I didn't have any, that it was very clear to me the fault was one. hundred. percent. mine - no decent Dominican cook is found without sopita. So, after you make sure the infant is still asleep and the toddler can't get to anything fatal, walk (again) over to the colmado and get some sopita.

Now, cover up, and bring to a boil. When it boils, taste and make sure you don't need to add any more salt (I know you're thinking that soy sauce and bullion cube should meet your daily requirement of sodium, but I'm just making sure it's flavorful). So, now that you're sure this is the flavor you want your moro to have, add the rice. Cover up, and let cook on high heat until all the water has evaporated. This should give you plenty of time to fit in a quick nursing session for the infant. Make sure doors are closed, though, because you already lost the toddler in the back yard this morning and you know how he likes to wander.

After all the water seems to have evaporated, uncover and stir, if it still has some liquid, leave uncovered until it's all gone. Cover up again, and bring heat to low. Let cook "until the rice is cooked." (again, Yudi looked at me like this was a no brainer, but this is exactly my weak point with rice... I never know when it is cooked. So, just make sure you cook it). I have no idea how much time that entails, but it was enough for me to cook some chicken thighs.

Almost ready.

Approved! He's Dominican after all...

Now, enjoy! I would've taken a picture of the finished product, but when I thought about it, it had already been passed around at the table.
It was very easy to make and the husband, the brother, and the toddler all seemed to like it (I liked it, too!). Who knows, maybe next time I bring lunch to my Bible study girls, they might actually eat it.

How Young Life retains is best leaders

One of the challenges Young Life faces throughout the developing world is how to retain quality volunteer leaders when, in order to study at the university level, they must work to be able to pay for it. Mostly their families cannot afford to pay for their college, and their are few options for scholarships or financial aid. Those of you who have been a Young Life leader know that to really invest in a young person's life requires a significant time commitment.

2014 DGL Students in the Dominican Republic

So how do you help these bright young students get a good college education without having to cut their involvement in Young Life? With this question in mind, a program was started in the Dominican Republic in 2002 which provided four-year college scholarships and practical training in direct ministry with the hope that after graduation these students would either work full-time in ministry or support ministries from a platform of a secular job.

We saw huge benefits of the program here in the DR, and now it has grown into what is called Developing Global Leaders. Young Life offers hundreds of scholarships throughout the developing world. We have seen a huge impact of the program here in the Dominican Republic. The biggest impact is on direct ministry, where these student leaders play key roles as head leaders for clubs or even volunteer area directors in some cases. They advance the ministry beyond what economic limitations would otherwise allow. For me as a camp manager, the DGL program is an incredible resource for us, giving us a pool of young people who have a good education, practical experience, and love for this ministry. Our most recent hire is a former DGL student.

If you want to know more about this program, watch the following video or go to the DGL website. Each student is sponsored directly by one or more supporters in the US.  Please consider giving this opportunity to a capable student in the developing world.