Posted on under Uncategorized

 

Cocooning has become popular in some places. The family comes home at night, closes the door, eats supper made partly from food bought at the corporate supermarket, thus sending their hard-earned money to corporate coffers in New York–or wherever–far from their local community. Then they turn on big screen TV. Some families don’t even wait until after dinner to turn on the TV. Thus people have little connection with their community–maybe even each other–but huge connection with the mainstream media. We may not even know our neighbors, or care that we don’t know them.

Thus the sense of community and belonging has vanished and many people feel isolated.

I live in Argentina. More than one Argentine has told me that people don’t care about you here. So I did my own little survey and found that pretty much the feeling here. Latin people have always struck me as warm and closely knit so that came as a surprise. My own experience with people in Argentina has been very good. But I still recognize that many Argentinians feel disconnected as well.

At the time of my early childhood in Miami, in the United States, we were on close terms with all the neighbors on our block. Neighbors used to occasionally gather on my grandmother’s front porch and discuss politics. I did not grow up feeling disconnected. I always thought any of those people would come to my rescue. But things have changed. And Argentinians, and even one Costa Rico woman who I interviewed, all say it has changed here as well. For me, as an adult, that change became obvious through a very alone time during my husband’s illness when we were not getting out any more. We seemed to have fallen off people’s radar. I’m sure people got busy and thought others were looking in on us. We can become bitter under those circumstances, or we can learn from hard experience and gain something positive from it.

Since then I have always made a point to keep up with people who fall off the radar, so to speak. Once an older woman I knew, handicapped by emphysema, a devout Baptist, attended and tithed to the same church for 33 years (not my church but I knew her), lived in the same neighborhood all that time, sold her apartment house to go and live near her family in her last years. I went to help with the move, as I usually do, expecting to invest a day there. She and I worked alone for 2 ½ days packing and loading her things in a U-Haul. With a few more people it could have been done easily in a day at the most. As I was leaving, sitting in my truck, wishing her well, I just couldn’t resist. I said, “Anna you’ve been going faithfully to the same church for 33 years. I have to ask you, where is your church?” She said, “I don’t know.”

No sense of community.

I think that we have gotten so used to the government taking care of everyone that our attitude is that we have no responsibility. Criticism is not the intent here. And we are fully aware that there are wonderful exceptions. But the point is that our lack of community has even reached into our churches.

Along the line of exceptions, we are proud of our subscribers. This week we share a bit with you, not only to salute them, but to give others ideas and to encourage those who have this vision along with us, but could use a little encouragement..

We sit in a unique position here at FFJ because subscribers write us their concerns, ideas—in some cases even their goals–as they plan their move. We benefit from a lot of news and ideas and true life stories that you pass on to us. Many of you caught the vision of going local—in your politics, your finances, and in your lives–maybe even before we did!

Our focus is on a balance of independence and community—independence in equipping ourselves to stand on our own two feet without expecting handouts from anyone, not expecting someone else to take care of us—at the same time, investing our lives in our community and our neighbors. We don’t wait for someone else to solve the problems. We take ownership and act independently where appropriate.

You may think that you don’t have anything to offer, but anyone can bake extra bread for a neighbor, or help him put up a fence—or whatever.

Here are real-life examples of expats that play a simple yet important part in the process of community in their own towns in South America in ways that almost any of us could do.

One expat in Montevideo, Uruguay, seven years ago, started a Sunday, family style dinner for English speakers. That’s all it was. No program. No speeches. No special planning. No nothing. He tells us that his goal was just a simple sit-down dinner similar to the way a family gets together for dinner.  Everyone is welcome–Uruguayans, Australians, Canadians. Both expats and local English-speakers attended. For locals it was a chance to practice their English. In turn they contribute so much since they’ve lived there all their lives. In fact, the Sunday dinner has been a great place to stop in when scoping out Uruguay for a home or retreat. Some of this reporter’s dearest friends in Uruguay came from the Montevideo family style Sunday dinner! That man has since moved on to Paraguay, where he now lives and has started another Sunday dinner in a local restaurant there.

Since then another expat has started a similar meeting  in Montevideo. This is something that, if it appeals to you, almost anyone can do. You just need to be friendly, committed, and welcoming. Anything that provides a chance for people to get together, particularly eat together, and just talk and learn to really know each other! That’s what it is all about.  And it works!

In another small town a woman that we know performs a simple but important service. She sends an informative email newsletter. People send her the information they would like publicized, she condenses, puts it in a newsletter and sends out her regular email. It may seem a small thing, but it isn’t. It efficiently keeps the community in touch. Some expats organize asados (BBQs of Uruguay’s  grass-raised, non-hormone-fed beef) and pot lucks and she publicizes it in her newsletter.

We are passing on a lot of the fun side of community.  But there is another side. A responsibility side—a self-sacrifice side. Sometimes there are needs in the community.  In some parts of South America (perhaps all, we are not sure) there is not a huge supply of nurses and if you are in the hospital, you  need friends or family members in the hospital with you to do things for you that you cannot do yourself.  We were informed of a remarkable example of community in Atlantida, Uruguay. In fact, after this happened, one woman that we know chose Atlantida for her Uruguay home, based on their reputation for community spirit. She said that’s where she wanted to live!

This is fine and we find no fault with that. In fact, what a credit to the people of that community. However, we think that, rather than go where community has already been established, we can work to establish it ourselves, wherever we land.

Several weeks ago we published about a woman who was hospitalized and how her community joined together to see that she was cared for. I heard the story first from a second-hand source before I had met Candy Blanca personally. When, to her surprise, she saw that I had mentioned her in the newsletter, she wrote us an expanded version in her own words. We were so touched by her story that we thought you would like it too. This, from Candy:

“About two years ago a friend took me to emergency with acute pancreatitus. I could hardly function so she took over and got them to see me right away. I was admitted to Intensive Care and my friend stayed with me until late that night when another friend came to take over. I was put on morphine and was pretty out of it, but I did know that I was being cared for and that I was not alone. I did not know at the time how serious my condition was, or that I would be in the hospital for two months. I had only my purse and the clothes I was wearing, but my friends rallied and brought me everything I needed: clothes, towels, toiletries, books, laptop, phone, etc. They made sure someone visited me nearly every day, and for some that meant a three hour round trip bus ride.

“My biggest concern was my English mastiff, Honey, who had never been left before. Two of my friends took turns coming to my house twice daily to feed, water, walk and spend time with her, as she was very depressed. I missed her so much but I knew she was being taken care of as well. It meant so much to me that my friends took the place of family and helped me through an unforeseen crisis. I don’t know what I would have done without their selfless kindness and thoughtfulness, which continued after I got home with trips to the store, housekeeping, dog walking, and companionship. I moved to Uruguay as a single woman on my own, but I have an adopted community of generous, helpful friends who warm my heart, and I will be there for them without hesitation should they need me.”

Our point in publishing Candy’s story is that there is a bit of sacrifice in community. I suspect it was not convenient for these people to dedicate hours to go and sit with Candy in the hospital. And to care for her  dog, and all the other things they did as they came alongside her in crisis.  Notice the persistence and commitment of the people. This went on for a period of time.  And it was not just one or two people. This community came together! In fact, if only one or two people tries to meet a need it can be overwhelming.

We think that there is a deep longing in people to be connected–to know that people care and to feel connected. But people have also lost the capacity for leadership. I think that it was stolen from us deliberately in order to make us dependent on government. Most have been herded into waiting for the powers that be to “do something.”  If it is going to change, it must begin with us. I say let’s change it wherever we are. Some of us have begun and I hope more will join us. For those of us involved in community, I don’t know anything more rewarding than putting love out there on people who need it. And that’s pretty much everybody.

I know some of the people in Candy’s community. From their standpoint, these people would say, “Candy is ours. She is a part of us, a part of our town–our community–and we take care of our own!” To finish this story, here is a follow-up of Candy’s report.

“Although this was two years ago, I remember it all too well, and I don’t know what I would have done without the people who stepped up and volunteered to help me while I was in the hospital and after I came home when I was too weak to do anything.  I was at a dinner party last week with Katherine Hine and friends and I was moaning about not being able to go home to see family because of the cost. I only have one daughter and I haven’t seen her in four years. Then Katherine said, “We’re your family,” and it suddenly felt less lonely for this single gal on her own in a foreign country. I admit to feeling sorry for myself from time to time, and then I realize all I have to do is reach out to a friend–go to lunch or to a movie, or show someone how to ride the bus–and things start to look up.

Connection is so important.”

God bless you all! Don’t forget! You are fantastic! See you next week.

Arlean