Before we met up with the Solomon´s Porch group to work in San Juan La Laguna, I didn´t know how much I had missed feeling a sense of community.
Community was what the week in San Juan was all about. The first glimpse I caught of Doug (our pastor who is almost 2 feet taller than the average Guatemalan) and then everyone else from our church among the many strangers at the airport, my heart leapt inside of me. None of the people coming from the Porch were long-time or close friends of ours (except for Ruben, who Josh mentors), but it didn´t matter. For me, they represented a community to which I belonged, and it made me feel at home.
As we gathered together as a group, it didn´t take long for people to warm up to each other. By the end of the first night, Doug was assigning personality types to people based on the oh-so-famous enneagram, Ruben and Taylor were dropping water balloons on people from the rooftop, and a lot of laughs were shared after a story involving one of our group members (who shall remain nameless), a Wedge Co-op cashier, figs, and a failed seduction.
The next day, when our boats pulled up to the dock in San Juan, our community joined the larger community of San Juan. Families from the village quickly swept us up the hill, carrying our bags alongside us. They prepared a feast for us in a tiny school classroom of chicken stew, tamales, rice, tortillas, and coffee. They opened their homes to us and engaged us in conversation and their daily routines at our homestays. And that is just in the first 24 hours. Throughout the week, we are constantly reminded that we, the people of Solomon´s Porch, are out of place yet somehow exactly in the right place. We provide materials and a little sweat and muscle to build a few homes and desks, and they return the favor ten-fold with hospitality, conversation, generosity, and lessons of grace. Families from years past visit with us, and I run into several familiar faces and receive many kisses on the cheeks. Blessings and salutations are sent with us for those who were not able to return to San Juan this year. Although we do not speak a common language (except possibly Victor, who mysteriously can communicate in any language) than us, we learn from eachother, laugh together, and find common understanding.
As our time winds down, the strong bond of community becomes even more evident to me. First when we go to each home for the “house blessings.” Tears are shared between group members and homeowners of gratefulness and connectedness. Taylor gives a photo to his 2 friends, both named Andres, along with his best Spanish explanation of his plans to return as soon as possible. Many tiny children climb every possible limb of Jeff and Josh. God has brought us together and I think we all feel a sense of this, making it hard to say goodbye.
The second time I realize the strong sense of community surrounding me is our last night together as a group in Guatemala. Tomorrow the group will return to Minnesota and Josh and I will continue to Europe. By now, I feel comfortable in this group and relationships have been formed. The thought of breaking it up feels like a pit in my stomache. But one thing God is teaching me is that community does not only happen when we are all in the same room, talking face to face. Community has the ability to span time and space, which is lucky for us as we move on to a new continent, in a new time zone.
-Jessie, April 3rd, 2007
