Jesuit Journeys
Winter 2007

What I Did On My Summer Vocation

Paul Lickteig took off to New Orleans and cleaned out homes still stagnant from hurricane Katrina.

Ben Bocher and Paul Shelton ventured to Northeastern India and worked with Jesuits in the Kohima Region.

Nathan Wendt traveled to San Salvador working with Latin American Jesuits.

It was not so much the fact that, in every house I entered, mold had worked its way up to the ceiling. The sight of sheet rock spread wide and high with mold is not so bad, really. It resembles a black and white representation of fractals and, when seen in this light, mold is not altogether ugly; reminding one of eternity and the strange forms that life can take.

It is the stench that gets to you. The smell of a house that once contained four to eight feet of river water mixed with sewage and chemicals is absolutely wretched. The fact that the water stayed in these houses for three straight weeks meant that everything in the house had sat in the toxic marinade for long enough to become saturated. Once the water level declined, the contents of the houses remained sealed, baking in the New Orleans heat until moldy brown. Whenever we cracked the door to a new house we were introducing fresh air into a sealed environment and letting outdoors what the majority of humanity has never had the disgusting pleasure of having smelled. Mmmm…noxious.

As we made our way, foot by foot, through the first room, handing out the belongings-now-wreckage that filled the room, I started trying to guess who this person was. As we sifted through the wreckage, finding old pictures, a diploma, a plaque awarded for years of excellence as a social worker, coffee mugs with “Farside” cows, and other strange odds and ends, I thought I might be on the verge of figuring out who this man, wait, woman, was.

The residents’ former belongings, piled up in huge heaps in front of the house, looked like ordinary middle class belongings. Like food that has been put in the sink, they had been transformed to garbage. This was the constant tension…how do I see the human face in all of this?

These items, accumulated over the course of a lifetime, sat outside in the heat telling the stories of the various residents. In front of many houses, odd things were collected with one another. In front of one house there was a Time Magazine from the late sixties with the picture of the first black woman of the year next to a fender amp and a box of tape-recordings. In front of another house, on top of a pile of rotten carpet, there was a camouflage jacket with a picture of Viet Nam embroidered on the back that said, “When I die, I know I’ll go to heaven because I’ve already been to hell.”

I was blessed to go on a trip to northeastern India (Kohima Region) this past summer – Gunjung to be exact – good luck finding that on a map. My first two tasks were a bit more traditional to Jesuits. I taught science and at least tried to take care of 80 plus boarding students. The third is a bit more involved.

When I arrived, Good Shepherd School had no electricity. A generator was used to power a few lights in a classroom so students could study at night and two solar panels powered a light in the cafeteria and another in a walkway. Although the school is now wired to receive electricity, it is so sporadic that it’s thought of as more of a bonus when there is actually current flowing through the lines. Hence my third task: evaluate the possibility of constructing a system that would not only eliminate waste, but also produce biogas that can be used to cook and generate electricity.

My education thus far has provided me with the hard wires – the math and science I need to critically evaluate the projects I work on for my master’s research, and that research invites me beyond my comfort zone – to test systems where further research is needed. God has invited me to learn how to design and operate biogas reactors in part to serve in capacities like supply of current so the kids have basic sanitation, decent lighting, and properly cooked meals.

My Jesuit formation thus far has provided me with hard wires too – a personal relationship with Jesus Christ that is rooted in prayer and supportive brothers and friends. That relationship invites me to go deeper again – to be open to further ways that Jesuits can serve.

God has invited me to live and love as a Jesuit in part to accompany those students at Good Shepherd – to be with those who need that constant current.

Trisha grabbed my hand and led me down to the school. I couldn’t see much as dusk settled, but I could feel a vibrant energy in the place ahead of me. When we rounded the corner, I saw what this 3’ 10-year-old girl was leading me to -- the sacred circle of girls. Sixty girls were standing in a circle, clasping hands, and singing. I took my place next to Trisha and waited. The girls shouted at me, “Brother” and some things in Khasi which I had no idea what they meant. I smiled.

They sang. They danced. They threw their hands up as they kicked their feet out. It was pure joy and I was right in the midst of it. I did my best to keep up. Little, spunky Trisha served as my guide as I mimicked her every move. It was amazing to see this somewhat shy girl turning into a woman in this circle. She turned my shoulders, more like my hips as she couldn’t reach my shoulders, to ensure I was facing the proper direction. I can’t remember a more enjoyable sixty minutes.

This is where girls learn how to be women. They take charge. Yet, their gentleness remains as they communicate with one another. I see it in the older girls. They are in command but they invite and encourage the younger girls to participate. They are patient when the little ones want to sing the same song the entire time. They let them sing it just enough to keep them satisfied. Yet, they move on. They don’t dwell. They sing the songs they want to sing.

Why am I here in this circle? I’ve been surrounded by a woman my entire life, my mother. I never knew my dad. It was just my brother Ron, mom, and me. Maybe I was born to be in this circle. Maybe all those late night talks with mom about breast cancer and menopause prepared me for this. Maybe mom taught me it was okay to learn how to be a man from a woman, from a little girl.

I sang. I danced. I threw my hands up as I kicked my feet out. That’s the kingdom of God.

Summer in El Salvador was full of the gifts of faith, friendship, work and study. The greatest of these gifts that I experienced was friendship with the scholastics of the Latin American Province. Through their hospitality and joyful spirits, the other gifts unsurprisingly followed. Myself and nine other North American scholastics spent our mornings studying Spanish at La Universidad Centroamericana, (UCA) in San Salvador. I was quite moved and invigorated by the legacy of Archbishop Oscar Romero that remains in the people of El Salvador. A visit to the place of his assassination and his tomb prompted a call within me to respond generously to the opportunities I would be given in language study.

Not only do Jesuit scholastics study hard, but they also work hard at their ministries. For several weekends I accompanied two scholastics to the small community of Coatepeque, where in October of 2005, the largest volcano in El Salvador, Santa Ana, erupted sending flows of boiling mud and water towards the lake that sits in its shadow. The “hot mud” destroyed many family homes. The scholastics, working through the social development organization Fe y Alegría, help the community rebuild amidst hardship.

I also assisted on a retreat with UCA students. We spent a few days in the small northern border community of Arcatao, where we bonded with the confirmation candidates of the local Jesuit parish and learned first hand about the devastating violence of the country’s war and the hope that accompanied it which persists today. I found it to be a powerful experience of how stories retold maintain peaceful unity among people while challenging the youth to Christian leadership and service. Our days were filled with prayerful reflection exercises, good meals, and socializing.

I find that community life is a key aspect of a healthy Jesuit vocation. Friendships were fostered between scholastics of Latin and North America. Living under the same roofs, and being together for meals, studies, prayer, and ministry opened up avenues to share our dreams for the Society of Jesus and the world. Every now and then we took a day away from studies and ministry to recreate together. Sometimes we would discover each other’s unconventional talents like making origami canoes or perfecting your balance in hammocks for sound napping.