My first 24 hours back in Quito

During the next year and a half, I might tire you out with stories.  An abundance of stories is what I have been given, they are what have made my experience unique.  These stories continue to change my life and therefore I feel that they must be told.....

After a wonderful 12 day visit to the states spent with family, friends and celebrating the marriage of Derek Swartz and Chelsea Reiff, I am now back in Quito.  I arrived on Monday evening and Tuesday it was back to work as usual.  As is normal and as I explained in my previous blog post, there were people waiting for me at the church front door when I arrived on my bike before 9am.  As is customary, I spent 5 hours that morning talking to people and doing my best to help them in their difficult situations.  However there were two encounters that I wasn't expecting to have that morning....

The fifth man that I interviewed came into my office like everyone else.  He began to explain his situation and we talked for about 10 minutes before I asked him the question, "what kind of work did you do in Colombia?".  He opened his jacket and showed me the t-shirt that he was wearing that had a picture of a clown on it and the title Ecopayaseando por la tierra (Eco-clowning around the world).  "I was a clown," he said.  My heart skipped a beat.  I recognized that clown in the picture and I recognized that title.  "I met you in Colombia," I said.  "You were at a meeting that I attended while I was on a Witness for Peace delegation.  Our group was wearing blue t-shirts and I talked with you and you gave me a free DVD of your clown show.  Do you remember me?" I asked excitedly.  "Of course!" he responded as he fell to his knees giving thanks that he had run into someone familiar.  The tone of our conversation changed after that.  We were both taken back by feelings of joy caused by the unexpected coincidence.  I had met him just one year earlier in August during the Witness for Peace trip at a community organizing meeting to help displaced people.  Since then his work with the displaced population and the local police force had gotten him into trouble.  After a car bomb went off at the police station in his hometown earlier this year and he was threatened, he was forced to leave Colombia and came to Ecuador.  Now living in a homeless shelter, he is trying to make a new life in Ecuador and we will be accompanying him.  It was an amazing coincidence.  The world seems to shrink with these experiences and the community of solidarity seems to grow, and I'm thankful for these stories.


As the clock approached 1 o'clock another man arrived to the church.  Since we still had more people waiting and all 8 interview slots had been filled, the secretary told him that he would have to return the next day because we wouldn't have time to speak with him.  Nevertheless, the man refused to leave the church.  After I finished interviewing all 8 families, I went down to the waiting area to see this man who had refused to leave.  It was a familiar face.  The man, Pablo, had come to our church 2 times before.  The first time that I met him over a year ago, he explained to me that he was suffering from testicular cancer.  His bald head from his chemo-therapies and his medical papers were proof of his sickness.  On that day (June 14 to be exact according to my journal from last year) I invited Pablo out to lunch and helped him with a bus ticket to the town where he was living about 6 hours from Quito.  Every 21 days he had to make the 6 hour bus trip from the town where he was living to Quito in order to receive free chemo treatments at a local hospital.  After that day in June when we ate lunch together, a whole year passed and we saw nothing of Pablo.  Then, about a month ago, he showed up at our church again.  His cancer had advanced.  He no longer could speak fluidly, nor could he walk without the help of a cane and even then he moved very slowly.  He had lost lots of weight and he now relied on a tube to go to the bathroom.  On that day about a month ago, I helped him again with his bus fare.  Two days ago Pablo showed up for the third (and likely the last) time at our church and refused to leave.  With tears running down his cheeks and in his stuttered speech, he delivered to me the news that the doctors had given him earlier that day: "he had only 2 weeks left to live".  His cancer had advanced to his stomach and he could no longer eat.  The 43 year-old Pablo, who appeared to be in his 60's, wept as he told me that he wasn't ready to die.  Pablo had been tortured by the FARC years earlier and had later developed testicular cancer.  He arrived to Ecuador 10 years ago and since then hasn't seen his relatives.  Although he had only been to our church 3 times, he sobbed as he expressed words of gratitude to me for having helped him and for having treated him with respect and dignity.  I cried with him.  He had come to say good-bye.  He had come to grant one last request for us to help him travel to Colombia to be with his relatives during his last days.  He had come so that we would pray for him.  With Cesar and Patricia, the pastors of Quito Mennonite and Alba, the church secretary, we anointed him with oil, laid our hands on him and prayed for Pablo.  It was a powerful moment.  After the prayer Pablo felt more at ease and we were even able to share a few smiles and laughs when Cesar and Patricia realized that they had some common friends with Pablo in Colombia.  I helped Pablo down the stairs and out to the front door.  We said good-bye one last time, hugged each other, and I helped him with one last bus fare: this time to Colombia.  I watched through the door as Pablo, with the help of his cane, slowly walked down the street and out of sight.


These are the stories that are changing my life.