A few weeks ago I had a dream. In this dream I was
back at my house in the US and it was only October. I realized that I was no
longer in Cuba and that for some reason I had to leave Cuba early. I was not
happy with this. I immediately went downstairs to find my dad eating breakfast
and told him that he must send me back to Cuba. I was practically in tears
because I had to come home early. “I didn’t even have the chance to experience
Christmas with my host family,” I thought. When I woke up from this dream I
thought, wow I must really be happy here. If I am dreaming about leaving and
demanding to come back I must be in the right place. This gave me a new sense of
motivation and desire to continue my work here once I awoke the next morning.
For
the last weekend in September, I was with the men of the Episcopal church of
Cuba at Camp Blankingship in Santa Clara, Villa Clara. This retreat was for
several reasons. First, to work at the Episcopal Camp Blankingship -- helping
clear the land of thorn bushes and planting trees to be used for several
purposes. The trees that we planted included avocado, mango, plantain, oranges,
and other trees used for shade. On the first day, it was my job to attack the
thorn bushes. My weapons of choice were a machete and a branch; the branch was used to part the bushes so that I could reach to bigger stems located close to
the ground. After about an hour of straight up war I was attacked by two wasps.
I guess I lost the war because after that I decided to take a break to snap
some pictures of the work that was being done. A few hours later I was
exhausted, and decided to follow a few people to check out the stream located
on the property.
As
I approached the brownish water, I thought to myself that there was no way I was getting in this stream. The two other people that came with are already
prancing around in the refreshingly cold water. I stand looking at them in a
state of envy, but my American health consciousness is overpowering my urge to jump
in. Then one of them shouted out to me, “Just come and join us. How many
opportunities do you have to swim in a Cuban river after a long day of work?”
He had a point, I thought to myself. Yet I still wasn’t convinced. They realized that I most likely wasn’t going to join them, and I continued walking further down
the river. As I was watching them, I thought to myself, “Oh what the hell, you
only live once.” So I jumped in and followed them down the stream. Once they
turned around and realized that I was right behind them they said, “you couldn’t
stay away could you? I promise you will leave feeling like a new man.” And this
was true. After about an hour of relaxation and conversation it was time to
head back to camp. When I got out of the water I felt like I was ready to get
back to work, as if the previous five hours of hard work under the intense
Caribbean sun never happened. Jose Marti once said, “Cuba’s sun doesn’t burn.”
I’m not too sure which sun he was referring to.
This
blog post is sponsored by: James Fellows, Peter and Christine Baldwin, the Rev.
David Holroyd, and Berry and Becci Bernard. Thank you all for your support.
Hi Will, it's Jacob (Keri's husband). I think the camp you were at is named after a past bishop of Cuba, Hugo Blankingship. He was born and raised in Richmond and was a long-time member of St. John's, where Keri and I are members. He was bishop of Cuba from 1939-1961, back when cuba was an American diocese. he is buried out front of St. John's, and we have his crozier. It sits behind the altar every week. I like to think it means we always have a little bit of a bishop with us at each service.
ReplyDeleteThis looks and sounds like a great place and experience! Is there any way to volunteer to work at Camp Blankingship??
ReplyDelete