I live on the second story of a house owned by the parish’s head of construction, Lucas Xirúc. This house is located just off the south side of the cemetery, which is at the western edge of town and on top of the central hill.

     My room is around eight feet by eleven feet, with subdued yellow walls and ceiling and a tiled floor. I have a bed, a wooden chair that usually serves as a nightstand, a large shelving unit with a closet, a desk, two more chairs, and a small table. On my desk I have a computer borrowed from the parish school, dictionaries, photographs of friends, and piles of papers I am currently working with. On the table is a glazed pottery pitcher filled with pine needles and grasses, a scriptural calendar, two empty cans from my favorite soda (for which I need to go across the lake), a radio, an alarm clock, a bowl of candies, and small, personal reminders of home. The most important item on the table is an empty wine bottle, a reminder of the lakeside picnic lunch at which I proposed to my wonderful friend Mary, who came to visit me as my girlfriend and left as my fiancé.

     Above my desk is a window facing the high mountain wall to the east of San Lucas. On the windowsill I keep a large bowl filled with photographs and other reminders of people and events I want to remember in my prayers.

     This is my temporary home. This is where I write, think, pray, rest, create, snack, and dream. This is where I struggle to put into words, into prayer, and into the core of my life the experiences I encounter outside of these walls.

     I get up each morning at 5:00 – the shower has absolutely no water, cold or hot, if I get up any later than that. I usually leave my room by 7:15 to walk the eight blocks to the Biblioteca, which adjoins the church. This is the parish’s library; it is also where all the volunteers and visitors eat. From 7:15 until 8:00 every morning, all of the project heads, as well as several other parish workers, gather in the Biblioteca to share and to learn of any relevant news, issues, or new developments. I attend these gatherings nearly every morning to greet these workers who are the reason we guests are here and to keep in touch with the life of the parish.

     At 8:00 we eat, wash dishes, and then head out to our morning work. My work varies from day to day. If there are new visitors, I may need to translate, answer questions, or just get them going in the right direction. Some days, I participate in some aspect or other of the parish – Masses, parish projects, visits to surrounding communities – in order to learn, to meet more people from the community, and to have material for my writing. Some days, I come back to my room and spend time writing, editing, and translating. Often, when I spend the day in my room, I buy an avocado from a street vendor to enjoy as a mid-morning snack.

     Lunch is at 12:30; it is the main meal of the day. My afternoons are generally the same as my mornings, though I almost never can write anything new once the morning has passed. I can only edit and translate in the afternoon.

     If I did not have an avocado in the morning, there is a good chance I will pick one up on my way home from lunch. Of course, there is always that bowl of candy on my table to tempt me.

     When I can, I go to Casa Feliz in late afternoon to spend time with the kids, to help them study, and to eat with them. When I have other commitments keeping me from going there, I go to the Biblioteca for supper at 6:00.

     My evenings are fairly low-key, since I get up at so early to hopefully find water in my shower, to pray, and to prepare myself for the day. After supper is for relaxing and talking with other volunteers and visitors until we get kicked out of the Biblioteca when it closes at 8:00. I normally come home at that time.

     I read, play guitar, or listen to music before going to bed. I always need to read a little before turning out the light; I also try to catch the news in English on short-wave radio.

     This little room of mine, on the opposite side of town from the main streets and their trucks, buses, and other night-sounds, gives me a peaceful place to sleep before rising again to discover, enjoy, and reflect on more of the riches of life in San Lucas.