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Other Stories Introduction Page One Page Three
". . . I am living in a society where the spiritual is marginal. To be Christian is to be lonely."
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Other Stories Introduction Page One Page Three
". . . I am living in a society where the spiritual is marginal. To be Christian is to be lonely."
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In creating the play we divided the stories up into different categories. Introduction stories would let us know who the person was and the reason for going. Arrival stories giving the very first impressions and then stories which would be memories, feelings, incidents, etc. As it was agreed in creating the play the individual writers of these stories have remained anonymous and so no personal author names will appear. The stories have been edited and future stories will come from contributions from group members, past or present. Introduction I Introduction II Introduction III The Arrival Impressions Poverty Jamaica The Diary Our Lady of Peace Why I want to go on another TWA Trip
It is June 14 1996, and after more than two years of knowing I was going to go on this challenging trip, I still don’t know what the initial reason for me going. Perhaps it’s because I feel I didn’t get all the loving and positive things while growing up and so I’ve always wanted to give more to others. I don’t hold it against my parents for not taking us, (the children) out and doing these as a family so that now and later on, I would have some wonderful ways to remember my family. But what I do hold against them is all the physical and verbal abuse we all received from my father. My father seems like such a wonderful and giving man and he can be...to those on the outside. I must have been a little kid the last time my dad encouraged me and praised me because I can’t recall the last time he did. Up until the age of 13, I used to be hit so much, I swore to God I was adopted and that’s why they didn’t love me. Now I know that’s the only way they knew how to raise us, but the scars are still there. I’ve grown to live with my father’s daily insults and put downs and my mother’s unbearable yelling. For the most part I feel this house of mine is for crazy people. On the other end of the scale though I’m grateful I’ve always been blessed with shelter, clothing and food on my plate. Plus the freedom to come and go as I please and not worry about every being thrown out. The most important stuff, the stuff I needed as a child but learned to live without getting it from my parents is the encouragement, praise, acceptance, approval and the parent-child bond that builds a friendship I never got. From 11 to 16 years of age I went through a lot of suicidal phases. I hated life and felt that no one loved me. When I did find someone who really cared I didn’t believe it. I had no self-esteem. I felt I didn’t have no one, no one at all (except God) until I came to know this wonderful teacher. He, in his unique way brought me up from my hole in the ground. He believed in me, complimented my work and made me realize that I was a good person. He did it so many times and gave me examples of why I was such a good person that I finally had confidence in myself and finally got me to the point that I liked the person I was. I am forever thankful to him for this and I don’t ever think I will go back to feeling so miserable about myself again. I pray to God I don’t because of all the things I didn’t have as a child and growing up, this is why I became a big sister. It’s not fair for a child to not to feel loved or that they don’t belong. This is why I felt I had to go to Jamaica so I could give a little love to all the beautiful children of Kingston. Also to remind myself that even though I may not have had it all, I had more and I have more than enough to be grateful for.
It all started July 7, 1978. I was born. After a year of abuse, mentally and physically my mom finally took charge and left my asshole of a father. He wasn’t just abusive he also was an alcoholic and a druggie. Even though people always say, “I’m sorry “, when they hear this, I honestly really do not give damn. It’s really much better to me. Since then it’s never been nothing but absolute poverty. I think that people don’t see me as being physically poor but my mother has gone to the food bank almost more times than I can count. My mother has basically always borrowed from Peter to pay Paul. She always has suffered to make my life better and I love her for it. She always gave to Goodwill so I could (and still can) dress well and fit in which everyone knows in this society, is what an adolescent needs, at most to survive. We have moved from project to project. Some points in my life I remember police beating people in the park because they were drug dealers. You are all probably wondering how this connects with Jamaica well I’ll tell you. Before this experience I really needed to know God and by going on this trip I have found him. I realize now that God does work through me and I found this there working with those kids in Riverton. I never found true inner happiness until I worked in Jamaica and helped people that had even more poverty than I did. Now home I work at food banks and always give back when I can. I have to be around and be a part of poverty. Even if I make it rich someday I hope I always stay true to where I came from…..Hey what am I worried about, (striking it rich), I want to be an actor.
As a child, my house wasn’t exactly what you or I consider a palace. During the winter was the worst. The six of us use to jam into one bed, to keep each other warm. The nights that rained outside also rained inside too. The floors of my house use to be like floods. The next morning we would all sweep the water. Well, at least the floors were clean everyday of the winter. At that time my father was the only one working. That made it difficult to pay bills and to eat, but we never starved with the help of my grandmother and friends. Every time that they killed pigs or chickens , they would share it with us. Gradually, my father began to get paid more that is when we decided to build a house. We got a lot of help from a gentleman in the Government. While the house was being rebuilt the six of us went to live in another house. After we moved into the new house, we still went through rough times . That is when my parents’ decided to come to Canada. Here we finished paying our debts that we had back home. I love Toronto, I wouldn’t move for all the money in the world but sometimes I think that even though we were poor back home that we still were better off there.
I see this piece of wood and I think, “How can a piece of wood be so respected?” You see I have always been quite religious but I had never noticed how respected it was. Though I was always very religious, I still always struggled with what religion I should be. I’ve been in a Catholic School for 6 years and I’ve kind of adopted the ways of the Catholic Church, but I still was not sure if I really wanted to go through with the next step, to actually have the sacraments done. Then I went down to the slums of Jamaica. All these people loved and respected this cross. People began asking me what the cross was for and I told them I was working with Father Ho Lung and they then said; “Oh, so you’re Catholic”, and not thinking, I agreed. I had to wonder if I didn’t just agree with these people just to protect my ass. At first I thought about this a great deal but by the end of the trip I also began to respect the cross and all Catholics. I watched how all the people who ever did any good in Jamaica were all Catholic such as Father Ho lung. Because I have seen what Catholics have done in the world, I now feel that this is the religion for me. I understand I’m not going to agree with a lot of the political things within being Catholic but is that the main issue? I don’t think so. I think being Catholic is having Jesus live through you and I feel that he does live through me.
The meetings were a great idea. They gave everyone the chance to share the events of each day & the different feelings that came with those events. They also helped to build trust between the entire group so that we were comfortable enough to share very personal things. For me, the meetings became my way of relieving the days stressful and emotional moments. I hated myself for never being able to hold back my tears, but that’s just the way I am. It’s better to get it all out of one’s system anyway. I remember on Day 7, I was so moody because even though I had the group meetings, to share my feelings at, it wasn’t good enough. I didn’t have my best friend. I missed Dino and he was the only one I could completely share everything with. As a result, I began to resent the fact that I had to attend every night’s meeting. Apart from being in that mood, the meetings really helped and had a good effect on the group. (So I would like to believe.)
Step up…Step up!! How the hell am I going to fit in there? Well here goes, I’m in. We actually fit. Ya know I’m quite glad we’re taking the bus. It gives us a sense of what the working class goes through in Jamaica. I know I complain a lot about how hot it is here but every time we step on this bus we learn something new. Just yesterday I met a person and he asked where we were from and what we were doing there. I told him and he thought it was great. Every time ya meet a new person you learn something new. That’s why being in totally new surroundings you’re so vulnerable. It is such a good experience. Hey what’s that? Someone just gave Mr. C. her kid because he was sitting down. That’s weird but hey it’s a good idea. Cling, cling. There’s the guy that takes the money. Steve just paid him $6J for us. “Driver, driver. Bus Stop.” Oh it’s time to get off and have a whole new experience on the three mile bus. I’m scared but I can’t wait.
Each time I go to a 3rd World Country I now realize that I’m expecting the same refreshment. I will once again meet with men, women and children going nowhere and not having to pretend they’re going anywhere. As I leave the Kingston airport I ‘m filled with expectations for the students, hoping they see everything, even what isn’t there and hoping that their stiff body and spirit casts are being slowly cracked and slowly removed during the next 12 days. I’ve been through their experiences before and realize that some windows and doors are hard to open. What about this group? What will they find out? I want them to suffer, to experience pain, hardship because only in those types of experience does anyone grow. Perhaps success just caresses our egos more than we need and allows us to live with illusions of ourselves that aren’t true. I was told many, many, times to guard my purse, my bags and my pockets. A lot of people told me to be careful and keep a look out because these people will steal from me. When I left Jamaica to come home to Toronto, I wished on the plane that someone had told me to keep a look inside myself and to guard my new born heart and soul. You see, the only thing these people would steal is what you take advantage of, your heart. This was all they stole from me but in return, they gave me a whole lot of wisdom and a whole new point of view of this world. I was told that I would never be the same when I got back. I’m glad that I’m not. To put this in words is probably the most difficult thing I had to do since I got back from Jamaica. While I spent 12 days in Kingston I learned a whole other side of this world. I learned to value every thing that I have and whatever comes my way, however, to gain something, one must lose something. I am a loss for words but, I’m trying to put my thoughts into words as well as a can. When I entered the streets of Kingston I saw the poor side and the rich side. The poor side is in desperate need of help. They need clothes, food, money, shelter, a clean environment. They need to be known. Yet the rich side is something that touched me deeply. They lavish in what we lack. We lack love for one another, belief and faith! I admit I was wanting to come home because I missed my family and my friends, but while in Kingston I was born again. I discovered a new family and a whole new group of friends.
Poverty from left and right No one does anything except be greedy. From my experience I learned how unfortunate we are, how lucky they are!
They might not have education but they are not ignorant - we are! Materialism means nothing to them and everything to others - or so they think
I hope I never change I hope I never become like these rich bastards I hope I never become what Society wants me to become I just want to be Sonia!
In Toronto I feel suffocated by the way of life in this society. I feel un-free to be who I really am. In Jamaica I was able to experience some of the basics of who I am and what is important. The experience creates a contrast: Canada: -I am drawn away from truth and caring by escape-ism through TV use, the comforts of exclusive privacy, the car, and superficialities. -I put on masks for sophistication, protection and power and I endure the masks of others. -I am living in a society where the spiritual is marginal. To be Christian is to be lonely. Jamaica: -Our group bonded. We depended on each other, traveling, fun, mission, and sharing. -Communication: We spent time speaking about our experiences. We shared our prayer. We shared our hurts and angers. We were honest with each other. We lowered the masks a lot. -Scratch the surface in Jamaica and you met God. He was never far from the surface, in the conversations of the people, in the natural beauty, in the faces of the poor, in the faith of the poor. God! (Angrily) Don’t ask me about God. You definitely won’t like what you’ll hear! We, humans who are petty, mortal, and destructive, are told to believe in it. Why?! We’re weak and need to believe in a higher power to help us overcome this pathetic weakness. A scapegoat for our own mistakes and imperfections although some would beg to differ! Walk through with me. Watch, feel, and understand what I felt. March 9th 1996. It’s really strange! I’ve been fighting to do this for so long, bitching at my parents, until they finally let me go to Jamaica. Now I don’t even want to be here. March 10th 1996. There was one little girl from Riverton who’s name was Susy. She was so sweet! She came up to me, asked my name and said, “Okay, I’m Wendy’s friend.” Then she linked her arm in mine and strutted to the school with me as if what appeared to be garbage shacks and dumps surrounding us didn’t matter. When we left, she walked us to the roadside. We didn’t know where the nearest bus stop was. So she took us there. She flagged down the bus for us. Teresa said, “It’s so hard to form an opinion of this place.” And she’s right! Sometimes a smiling face will make you feel welcome, but 5 minutes down the road, as you’ve been walking a resentful look makes you think, “What the hell am I doing here?!” March 12th 1996. It’s becoming really apparent now that I shouldn’t be here. All I ever feel is depressed or useless! I’m not helping anybody by being here! All I’m doing is looking stupid. I can’t take this any longer. March 13th 1996 I went to another school today. It felt better. It was like I actually did something today. A little boy from the school didn’t want me to leave. He wanted me to take him home. March 14th 1996 Today as we were walking to the bus stop, I was attacked by all these terrible comments. (People were shouting comments from all directions.) “Fat white pussy. Fat girl. You fat, you body fat.” I freaked. My hands began to shake I was trying to cover my ears, I was crying. March 18th 1996. This is a line I remember. This is the first time I ever heard... “The vampire wearing the cross”. Something definitely is up there that’s for damn sure! Evil or goodness or corruption or peace. Jesus, was a MAN. Or so they say. Our time, man’s time, has come. We must be our own Christ!
Mother Teresa’s Home for the Sick and Dying) Today I talked to an old woman. She’s been living there at this place for two years. She believes she is going to die soon. She’s very sick, and all I can do is talk to her. So everyday I go over to her first and ask her how she is. I think she wants to die. Today I found out that she has a son living in England, and well, she hasn’t seen him in over two years. He’s doing well there. I thought about her all day today and I don’t understand how people can abandon their parents. I could never abandon my grandmother or my mother or father. Today I talked to that old woman again. I think she really wants to die because she told me she’s been praying for it. It was very hard to talk to her because I kept thinking, don’t die, I don’t want you to die. I think I’m the only one who talks to her because whenever I go or arrive she’s always alone. I’m getting really scared. I’ve been really scared to go to Mother Teresa’s because the old woman keeps praying to die soon. She tells me she’s ready for Jesus to take her away. She won’t be in pain anymore. She told me that she looks for me everyday. I’m ashamed because I keep feeling that I don’t want to go there in the morning because she won’t be there and she’ll really be dead. I think maybe I can go there and she won’t see me and I won’t have to talk to her. Today she told me, “I love you.” That she prays for me.
Why I want to go on another TWA Trip When I first decided to go to Jamaica, I truly didn't know what to expect. While I was there, I found the two weeks very challenging. I missed home, my family, my boyfriend and my little doggie. Also being my first trip ever out of Ontario, made it even more difficult. And still while there, many times I just couldn't wait to go home. However, about a week after we returned home, I wished I was back there. This desire to return even continues to this moment. Throughout the rest of the summer, I really missed the people I worked with at St. Monica's, as well as the group. The trip was a very special experience. I could only wish that I touched at least half the amount of hearts that touched mine. Ultimately, the trip did change me, my outlook on life and help direct me towards a possible career. I'm hoping to possibility do my Master's in International Health or Global Public health. I want to go to Haiti next summer to feel what I did in Jamaica...and possibly more. many people don't see it like this, but we, as a group, are very privileged. We get to leave our everyday lives and touch the hearts of many unfortunate people who live in impoverished settings. I sometimes feel that although they live in physical poverty, we "westerners" live in emotional and spiritual poverty. The people in Jamaica enriched my life and not a day goes by that I don't remember them or the trip. I carry it with me always!!
Finally got here. Wow. We finally made it. I have been waiting for this for 2 years and we’re finally here. Is it ever hot. When we left Toronto it was 30 degrees below zero so the contrast when we got out of the plane was like a wall of heat hitting you like a slap in the face.. I couldn’t complain because I’m a summer type of person so I love the heat. We took a bus to the Convent and we drove through the south part of Kingston. While driving I was listening to people on the bus talking about how the bus was driving on the opposite side. Man that was weird. It was hard to get used to it. I was sitting there within my own thoughts when I noticed we were driving through a part which was very poor and I was silent. I didn’t know what to think. The only feeling that I cold distinguish was the one of true fear. I was scared more than I ever was in my entire life. I didn’t know why I was scared but I was petrified. The farther we got into the slums, the more frightened I became. Then slowly we started to get out of the slums and I became more secure and a little more a ease. While we went through the rough part I noticed the bus became silent to the point where you could hear a pin drop, but when we moved into the wealthier parts I noticed the bus start to chatter again. I didn’t know why rich was secure but I didn’t like it. This place gave me the creeps a lot. The most predominant thought I have of this first bus ride is. I was looking forward to this trip for two years and now I don’t know if I really want to be here. “What the fuck have I gotten myself into.”
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