Weekend

I had Saturday off which was really nice. Except I did homework most of the time. But! Maren took me to the Saturday market which is my new favorite thing. Piles and piles of goodness: I got some chili con carne for lunch with a huge roll stuffed with cheddar and onions, then I bought some fresh strawberries and clementines to eat during the week. Here it is Monday and they're almost gone. Gosh.
Saturday night we went out to Oranmore for a worship service which was pretty cool and we met a lot of interesting and friendly people. Megan and Paul got mistaken for Americans and I got mistaken for an Irishman. Hilarious. We came back and got chips and Paul messed with Ben and we got amusing pictures: you know the classic late night jokes.

I went to bed and got up again and then what happened was worth putting in my practicum journal, so I'll copy and pastes it here for you:


I didn’t work today, but something happened that I felt was worth journaling. First it needs a bit of the back story to explain it: Last week, I was walking down Shop Street and I encountered a man who was clearly mentally unstable, but he was begging for change and despite the feeling that I should help him in some way, I ignored him and walked by. Later in the week, I was having my quiet time in a church and praying and I felt God telling me that I should go out and look for him or someone to help and the feeling was so strong that I actually got up and left the church, headed toward Shop Street to see if that guy was still there. On my way over, however I failed again: a drunk man stumbled toward me and I felt a twinge of guilt as I thought to myself, “He’s not the guy I came looking for; I can’t stop.” Within minutes I knew I had ignored the opportunity God had dumped in my lap and I futilely turned around to look for the guy I had passed. Frustrated, embarrassed and upset with myself, I confided in my roommate back home that I needed prayed because I was struggling to follow the things God was leading me to do. But tonight He gave me another chance and I almost blew it again. Coming back from a Christian conference/gathering of some sort in Oranmore, we drew close to our café and as we passes the bridge, Ben threw some change at a guy huddled up against the railing while I tried to ignore the thought that this was another chance. A couple hours later after hanging out with friends, getting ready for bed and even almost falling asleep, I remembered the man on the bridge. Determined to not fail again, I got over the fact that Ben would think it was really strange of me to get out of bed in the middle of the night, get dressed and go out. I grabbed some of the left over bread we had gotten from the café at the end of the week and went down to the bridge to give it to the guy. He was there and I handed him the bread and asked how he was doing while he looked startled and mumbled something I couldn’t understand. I stood up and said, “Well, I’ll be praying for you!” and left feeling like a fool. I made it back to the café and realized that what God wanted me to do was not just be that rich kid trying to be generous and thinking I had done my good deed by being cliché and promising prayer, but he wanted me to befriend the guy. Again, faced with the awkward prospect of going back for no apparent reason, I grabbed some lunchmeat I had, flashed Ben a confused grin and headed back to the bridge. This time I sat down next to the man instead of crouching next do him like a father would to a little child and I immediately felt more on his level. I told him that I remembered that I had lunch meat and wanted him to have it too. The next hour turned out to be one of the best of my week. His name is Alan and he’s from Montenegro and doesn’t speak very good English (whereas I have no idea if Montenegrese is even a language or how it sounds). I remembered Ben and Kelsie talking with the Brazilian sisters in French and Spanish, so I asked him if he knew any other languages hoping he might know French, but his specialty is Spanish. The last time I took a Spanish class was in fourth grade so through my broken Spanglish we got to know one another. He has two small children, Alan Jr. and Laury and a wife who I think are all staying with an Irish friend nearby. So he’s not homeless, he just doesn’t have a job and is pretty poor. He’s Greek Orthodox and told me he had to get to bed so he could go to church tomorrow and he wanted to make sure that I knew that he doesn’t drink and thinks alcohol ruins families. Every now and then locals roaming from pubs or parties would come by the bridge and almost everyone had a spare coin for his little paper cup. Alan is a very grateful man, always said thank you and kept telling me how nice and generous the Irish are (though he said he had to watch out for the Gardai because they would take away all the change he had collected). Eventually he looked at my watch and announced he needed his sleep so he could be in church tomorrow and I agreed, so we got ready to go. I had tried to invite him to come to our café, but he never really seemed to understand my Spanglish invitations. I asked him if I could find him there tomorrow night because I wanted to bring back Ben to translate for us. After a good bit of confused words, I got out “Viernes noches, aqui” and so I talked with Ben and we are going to meet Alan on the bridge on Friday night. Hopefully with clearer communication we’ll be able to learn more about him and possibly find this Orthodox Church and go with him and his family. It was very fulfilling to know that I had finally stopped refusing what God was asking me do and it was great to make a new friend. Sometimes we can be very serious about our own prayer life and the little things we go through to ensure our own growth, but at times I find myself being such a hypocrite and not following some of those terrifying words of the New Testament that remind me that Jesus is the least of our brothers who we clothe, feed, or visit. I pray that God can take this breakthrough he’s made in me and make it concrete so that I can stop messing it up so often.