The Hourglass

    Olivia DeBoer:    

    

    I am a person of many unusual fears, but the strangest, by far, is time. To me, the sound of a ticking clock is overbearing. It haunts both my dreams and my waking hours. On occasion, I feel more like Captain Hook, constantly followed by the ticking of a clock from the depths of the belly of a crocodile, than myself. Time is a bit of a ridiculous thing to be afraid of, isn’t it? It’s one of those inevitabilities which characterize the human existence. Yet, when I think about it, I still get uneasy. The thing is, time is a hot commodity. The demand for it far outweighs the supply we are granted in our lives. 

    When I look out at the sea of student’s faces in front of me in the classes I teach at the secondary school here, I curse the clock whose unrelenting rhythm forgives nothing. I want nothing more than more time with these kids. Classes are jam packed with activities, which we never complete. I often find myself wishing we had just 10 more minutes. But even with 10 minutes, or an hour, or a year more, it would still not be enough.

    The thing is, no matter how much time we get in a given moment, it will never be enough. There will always be a piece aching for more moments to share with the people we meet or the places we visit. Part of what my time here, and other experiences abroad, have taught me is that even though the moments we have are never enough, they are what they are. There’s nothing you can do to change the time you have; you can just do your best to make the most of it. All you can do is linger a while in doorways before going on with your busy, busy life. There’s an importance in pausing your work to just be present in the moment and take it all in. If you know me, though, you would know that I am really bad at just taking things in. I always must be doing something productive, so coming to terms with accompanying instead of actively “helping” was a bit of an adjustment.

     I spent 4 months in the Dominican Republic this past year doing a study abroad program with a focus on social justice which was where I was first introduced to the idea of accompaniment instead of the active aspects of service. Although, even after 4 months there and a month here working on that theme, I still struggle with it most days. I just want to be able to feel like I’m actively helping, whether it is peeling potatoes until my hands cramp up with Estela and Julia or being sure to wash the dishes after my housemates cook. 

As most of the group begins to pack up to head back to the states, I’ve spent quite a bit of time reflecting on our time together. I have to constantly remind myself that even though I have a mere two weeks left in Andahuaylillas, there is no tragedy hidden in that. The fact that I have had this opportunity to work with the Project here and experience the things I have is a great privilege, and I know I would feel the same if I had spent a year, or two, or even a decade here. No matter what the goodbyes would still feel bittersweet. So, linger a little while in doorways and take everything in. All the while the sands of time will still slip through the hourglass.