Guests and Hosts

This Wednesday (today, at the time of this writing) is my first two-day break away from Arahata. I think I need it. My personality conflict with Carly has taken on new dimensions and it will definitely only get worse before it gets better. Also, we had our first “Desert Day” (a day of meeting and spiritual formation for assistants) this morning. There, we received three very bad articles of news. One, our newest core member is leaving the L’arche community here, as he has been returned to his parents care. A few days ago, with his first crisis fully abated, he again started flipping tables, hitting people, and be generally violent and aggressive. The way Michele tells it, she didn’t want to call the police because the cold vacancy of a jail cell doesn’t do much for a person with disabilities. Instead, Michele called the parents. It's certain now, unfortunately, that L'Arche is not going to be a good fit for this core member. He'll need better circumstances than we can provide. We're all very sad about that. He and his flatmate, (who is now just a total wreck), are receiving a lot of prayer this week. Another core member was so frightened by one incident that he actually jumped out of his bedroom window, injuring his arm in the process.

Then we were told that L’arche Kapiti is still running a huge budget deficit, so they’ll be giving up the house at Waikanae, which was being held as a place for assistants to go during their days off. It’s generally mandated that assistants have to spend their Sabbath days away from their work houses. With the Waikanae house gone, we haven’t many options left to fulfill that mandate. I’ve come all the way out to Ngatiawa, but more on that later.

The final bit of news is that, because of the aforementioned budgetary concerns, our room and board fee will be increased, which is frustrating to say the least. While it is true that assistants get very cheap room and board in L’arche, it works out be about as expensive as living with 4 or 5 other flatmates under “normal” circumstances, but we have that same number of roommates anyway, since we have to care for disabled people. The practical upshot of this is that I get to sleep in what is essentially a closet in my workplace, while paying comparable living expenses as those who do not pursue such career moves and while losing the ability to host guests and friends for dinners and overnights. A brief synopsis: “Welcome to New Zealand. Here’s your place of both work and residency. You get the smallest room (actually, an old foyer). And, hey, your room and board just went up. Sorry, mate.” Brenda, my fellow assistant, phrased it well when she said that she wouldn’t leave L’arche just because the rates whet up, as we all really do love our jobs, but that the insult hurts just a bit. At any rate, L’arche here is sustainable until August, thanks to a large gift of charity from someone who remains anonymous to me. The way the folks down at the office are viewing this is that, by charging a bit more, they can afford to keep all the assistants on instead of firing one person. Keeping assistants on is necessary for welcoming core members. It’s all a big catch-22, since losing assistants means losing the ability to do the mission of L’arche. Hey, man. I’m just rolling with the punches. Sweet as.

EDIT (1/5/10): The conversation regarding room and board is ongoing and, at the time of this edit, it looks as though L'arche Kapiti will be financially viable for a long time. Whew!

It’s strange that I came here to “flesh out” the ideal of vulnerable communion. While I have been working on that concept, I’ve more recently discovered another concept of study while I’ve been here: hospitality. In addition to my “theology of vulnerability,” I was also studying the nature of Christian hospitality just before I left (Yes, it was in a class with Dan Deffenbaugh) and I’ve encountered it here in some interesting ways. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but I’m currently writing this from the one-room theological library of an intentional Christian community called Ngatiawa (“na-tee-a-wa”) about a half-hour north of Waikanae ("why-can-i"). This little library, which looks like Dr. McCarthy’s office back in Hastings-both in terms of its title selections and size-actually includes (yes!) a bed. What’s more, it even comes with fresh sheets. I’m not sure why it’s here, but it’s a pretty good statement about the hospitality of this place. Up here in the mountains, their water is taken from the river, their milk is fresh from the cow, their children can usually be found barefoot, and there’s a lot of knitting going on. (P.S. See the underground art movement of “knit-tagging.”) Ngatiawa celebrates morning and evening prayer daily and on Mondays and Thursdays everyone eats together in this huge dining hall. I feel very welcome here, to say the least. The evening tea is hot and the company comes without one single television set.

I mentioned this in my thesis presentation, but I think that the precursor to any intentional encounter with Other is hospitality. That is, we prepare ourselves for the Guest (German etymology: “stranger” or “enemy”) and then, without knowing exactly when, Ethical encounter happens. I’ve spent a lot of time in my first week here trying to be hospitable toward others, waiting for Ethics to strike me in the face, to wound and change me. But it’s nice to get away for a time and have Sabbath in a place that was designed to welcome me as well. This is the kind of place that Sabrina Miller would totally get a kick out of. (Sabrina, if you’re reading this, consider coming to NZ instead of Mexico. There will be fewer old folks and pollutants.) Before I left, my deacon, Betsy Bennett, gave me a copy of the Book of Common Prayer as it is printed for New Zealand (with its many Māori translations and prayers). Since the folks at Ngatiawa are technically Anglican, they use this book every day for morning and evening prayers, so I get a chance to use my latest text in what looks like an amazing feat of hospitality. (Oh. Let me just pull out my New Zealand edition of the Book of Common Prayer here. *wink*)

The big revelation that I had while doing my final thesis is that Forgiveness (and, indeed, all of Ethics) is not a one-way street. Forgiveness and hospitality are ethical in that they create new consciousness and new being. I do the dishes and the laundry and I clean the house and I do puzzles and watch movies and prepare meals and read books with core members, all in the name of hospitality. I often forget, however, that Arahata was their house, is their house, long before it was mine. In that way, they have been hospitable to me, even before I stepped foot in the door. This particular L’arche community was founded by Father Rod, who actually charges the core members with a mission. He tells them that their job is to instruct as assistants in the ways of this community while we’re here. At the end of this time then, it is the core members who send us out, commissioned to speak to the larger world. I find this so surreal. I’m being evangelized, even as I work. There are a lot of parallels here with Benedictine monasticism. I have been welcomed at the front door as a guest, as if I were Christ himself, and now it is as if I were working as a monastic probate, doing the menial tasks of the community in exchange for the opportunity to undertake a mission from God; a mission of worship. “Ora et labora” truly beings and ends with hospitality, with vulnerability. Though I have come to serve the poor on this “ark,” I find that, in many ways, I am being served. I have come to welcome the Other, but find that I am being welcomed.

Sink or Swim

There's a fine line between being overstaffed and understaffed. L'arche can only afford to pay me for the required full-time 40 hours per week of work. This goes for all the assistants. What that means for me is that I'm technically "off" more than I expected. I'm allowed 3 hours per day, 2 days per week (broken up over 3 days), one long weekend a month (3 days), and a full 10 days after 6 months. Like I said, I'm paid for 40 hours per week, but, since I live in Arahata in addition to working here, I'll actually "work" close to 70 or 80 hours per week. After the first 40, it's all tithe. I say "work" because L'Arche is definitely not traditional work. Most of what I do is just whatever is required for keeping up a household, which I'd be doing anywhere, regardless of my living situation or job.

A brief sidebar: Australia and New Zealand are unique in that full-time assistants are paid. Generally, L'Arche doesn't pay it's assistants at all, except for a small stipend for personal expenses. Of course, L'Arche here still accepts a good number of volunteer assistants as well. If we're comparing apples to apples, my employment here is a pretty sweet deal all around, it just cuts deeper emotionally and spiritually.

Lordy Mercy, talk about learning to swim upstream. Akiko, our house leader, is on her 10 day break right now, last weekend was Brenda's long weekend, an incomplete roster put Carly off for a full day and half, and everyone who's not at Arahata is either working with a behavioral crisis or helping out at the now overloaded Rangimarie house. If you do the math, it works out that yours truly was holding down the fort by myself for the large part of yesterday. I didn't know when I was on or off, since Rachel had to leave the house at 9 am. Neither did Carly, who proceeded to flip out during breakfast (behavioral problems, here we come). I was just playing it by ear, going through the motions until Michele showed up to give us the lowdown. Afterword, I continued to go through the motions while Carly went off anyway. Oh well. Sabbath is important, especially in L'arche. You've got to respect people's personal time and space.

But, here's my unexpected point to all that hubbub: I actually called on our core members for help. After all, they know the routine better than anyone else. As it turns out, Leighanne knows exactly where everything in the pantry goes and Kim can entertain herself for hours on end. With Kim and Leighanne's help, I managed to keep our house clean and maintained until Brenda got back, which was sooner than expected, since she forgot her pajamas. Upon learning of our difficulties in the past 2 days, she simply said, "Welcome to L'arche," in a perfect Kiwi accent. "Sweet as." To be totally honest, however, I don't think I was giving our core members enough credit. They're not as "poor" as people often make them out to be. In the future, this will perhaps be a point of argument that I have with Jean Vanier, philosophically.

This morning was church. One of the core members in my house doesn't go to church with everyone else because she has a hard time with a few of the folks there, emotionally. As such, she does Mass on Thursday mornings during a special service. So, while everyone was out at St. Patrick's Sunday morning, I got to "do something interactive" with this core member one-on-one. We read books (she even read a few to me), did a few jigsaw puzzles, and then watched Mamma Mia!, a musical which our house thoroughly enjoys 2 to 4 times daily.

This is a simple, slow life, but it's one that I think I could get used to. A few core members actually seem to like me, which is also unexpected. I know because of physical contact and nonverbal signs more than verbal language. My right ear has been getting a lot of love in the past few days. Transition is very hard for core members, but the general mood of our house is much more upbeat and less depressing than when I first arrived. I understand now why Tim continued to work for L'arche even back in the States. It's like a ready-made family; a whole community that just wants to love and be loved. Anybody can come here with the fullness of their person, warts and all. L'Arche just receives and gives and receives and gives. Sweet as, indeed.

First Steps

Alright, so all of my introductions are pretty much finished now. Here in Arahata we have only two core members at the moment: Leighanne and Kim. That fact actually makes us a bit overstaffed, as we have 3 regular assistants: Brenda, Carly, and myself. Apparently, I'll be the only male in the house all year long.

Yesterday was busy. We ran over the how-tos for some basic duties like cleaning and cooking. There's alot of consciousness around cross-contamination. The core members are (much to my surprise) amazingly independent. Kim and Leighanne can both make breakfast and lunch for themselves and Leighanne even holds down a job at a local hair salon. There are some things they can't do well, however. Some of our core members (as can be expected) don't exactly clean up well when they use the toilet, and many need help in the shower and such, all of which can make germaphobes like me pretty nervous. Things could be much worse, however. Yesterday, at about 9 am, we received word that our newest core member at Te Waka house, had gone on a bit of a rampage and smashed a chair through a window. When we went for a visit, Michael was with him and they were quietly making scones. Peter, Tony's other core member housemate, had to be moved for the night to Rangimarie while other leaders dealt with the crisis. All in all, however, this is pretty much what I expected in terms of responsibility and consequences.

There was a bit of joy yesterday as well. Last night was pub night, so we all headed out to a local pub. Everyone was there and we all shared a good drink, despite the recent and unsettling outburst. No worries. Plus, the pub owner gave us all fries on the house! A good time for everyone. L'arche follows a model called the "Empowerment" model. Basically, it states that if you allow a person to do what they can for themselves, then you'll have less to worry about in terms of behavioral problems and they'll be happier and better people. This makes the pace of life here a LOT slower, but it also creates a very home-like environment. Additionally, the empowerment model takes alot of pressure off of me, since-like Michele said-I only have to work on being a friend and not a caregiver.

The only person I've really had trouble with is Carly. This is ironic, considering that she's my fellow assistant, not a core member. She's so insecure and annoying that every conversation with her feels like speaking to a 10-year-old. What's more, she babies all the core members as if they can't do anything. That can cause behavioral problems, especially for Kim, who hates to be ordered around. Core members I can deal with, at least they've got a routine that's easy enough to pick up on, but Carly might pose my largest problems. That bit is definitely something I didn't expect.

I continue to view this assistantship as "service," but it's really no more service work than having a family. You wouldn't consider your family a service project. And, yeah, the core members have intellectual disabilities which create a need for vigilance, but you'd do the same thing if you knew that your child or your roommate had, say, Epilepsy. My cynicism has ruined more relationships than I can count, but no one's calling me disabled. Perhaps, however, they ought to. Learning a person's weaknesses is simply a part of coming to know them better. My dad can be stern and stubborn and my mom is usually a push over, so I become conscious of these things in conversation and in life. The people I live with now, core members and otherwise, are really no different, if a bit more difficult to manage.

Now, I've got to get everyone up for "brekkie". A new day begins...

Beginning My Pilgrimage

Apparently, the Immigration Bureau of New Zealand requires at least one of two things for international travelers coming to their country: a resident visa or a return ticket home. I did not have a return ticket because purchasing such a thing one YEAR in advance is (1) silly and (2) impossible to actually do. My thanks go out to my parents for their generous loan of a completely useless ticket booked for April 20th of 2010. (I'll have to change the booking date later.)

EDIT (5/1/10): The New Zealand Immigration Service actually did not require return passage. According to them, such is waived for a valid work visa, which lets me get into the country multipple times. Northwest Airlines: You have erroneous records. Thanks for holding me up in bloody Omaha. :P

So, after a lot of frustration and more than 24 hours in transit time. I have finally arrived in New Zealand at L'arche Kapiti in the Kapiti Coast city of Paraparaumu (or Pram if you prefer to butcher the Maori pronunciation in English). From Central Time, US, I am one day ahead and 7 hours behind, which makes me...really tired. I slept a good deal on the plane and even got some REM in, but I fear it was in vain. Nonetheless, if you're coming to NZ, then Air New Zealand is the way to go: very luxurious, 2 full meals, and free drinks (i.e. sleep aids bearing an astonishing resemblance to gin and tonic).

Before I left, a friend gave me a book to read: Gracias! by Henri Nouwen. It's his Latin American journal of working with the Maryknol Missionaries during the heyday of South American Liberation Theology. It's deep and inspiring and I recommend it to anyone. The book definitely hit me in the gut and resonated all the way up to my heart. A quote: "The great paradox of ministry [...] is that we minister above all with our weakness." I couldn't have said it better myself, even in that high and proud thesis I wrote.

I intend to take this next year very seriously, but also very playfully. I'd like to come to Arahata house (Tim, if you're reading this, I have your old bedroom. Creepy, I know.) with nothing but myself to offer. I was speaking to the Community Director, Michele, when she picked me up from the airport. L'arche here is in transition and Michele herself is moving on to other things, so there was alot of guarded emotion in her speech. I feared then that this place would kill me, that it wold work me to death. At least, that is, until I asked what would be required of me as an assistant. Michele said, "be a friend. You're not a care giver." and that was basically all she said. It was that experience of friendship that allowed Nouwen to overcome his depression and reinvigorate his mission and life.

I still am a little afraid of who I might be when I leave Arahata, but I am also girding myself for the next phase of the journey. Any moment now, Kim or Leighanne will be back home for lunch and I will get to meet them. I am a pilgrim following folks like Jean Vanier, Henri Nouwen, and Tim Moore to a place of community. It's not necessarily a hily site or a mountain or a rock or any other actual place, but is it a very real place nonetheless. For the time being, I think I'll just have to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Small steps are still steps.