I've Been Called "Friend"

It wasn't too long ago that I wrote of missing the Midwest and my home.  To a certain extent, I know I will always miss that place, but I am finding that I have grown to love Los Angeles - which actually took me by surprise.  The streets I walk are starting to feel familiar, the trees don't seem so strange, and hearing the calls of street vendors in the morning is not startling anymore.  I never wanted to travel to California, let alone LA, yet, here I find myself not merely living, but participating in life.

And tonight, I was called, "friend."

This may not seem very significant to a lot of you, but in fact it is.  I moved into a neighborhood that is 85% Latino, 64% born in Latin America.  I am very much the outsider.  Not only am I white, blonde, and blue-eyed, but I am from the north - and to people here, the north means northern California, not Minnesota.  On top of that, I have the finances to go to not only undergraduate but also graduate school while the majority of residents here have not finished their high school degrees.  To say that I am an outsider might even be a gentle way of putting it.

And tonight, just a few hours ago, I was called, "friend."

I've mentioned the ladies from the park numerous times, I know, but they are truly my window into the culture and happenings of the neighborhood.  Each time I go to talk with them, they greet me warmly, make some room for me on the cement bench, and ask me how I've been since we last saw each other.  It had been a while since I last joined them in the park, due to assignments and work schedules, but they quickly let that pass by and drew me into their conversation.  They ladies were excited because they were planning a "convivio" or a small party in the park that would take place on Saturday, today.  Before I left to finish my homework for the day, I was invited to join them at 3:30pm on Saturday.

Excited to go to their gathering, I baked some of the famous, secret family recipe chocolate chip cookies to bring with me.  When I arrived, they were just stoking the charcoal grill to begin the cooking and a number of dishes had already arrived.  Soon, the "costillas" or ribs, and the carne asada (literally, "roasted meat") were thrown on the grill and plates were made for everyone around the bench, including the children running around.  The conversation focused on food, cooking, and the children as we ate.  Just as the sky was beginning to darken, the men began to gather around the women, looking for food and beer.  As their plates were prepared, one of the lady's husbands came up to me, asking his wife while he stared at me, "Es vecina, o amiga? Vive cerca?" - "Is she a neighbor or a friend? Does she live close?"  His wife turned, looked at me, turned back to her husband and said clearly, without hesitation, "Amiga. Ella es amiga." - "Friend. She is a friend."  As I confirmed to the man that I could speak Spanish, his wife explained how I came to the park to sit and talk with them, laughing at the silly stories we would all tell.  And although the sun had gone and the wind had picked up, chilling all of us around the cement bench in the Alvarado Terrace Park, everything within me was warm and aglow.

I was called a friend.

They knew that I was new to this neighborhood.  They knew that I didn't fully understand their culture.  They knew that my Spanish wasn't perfect.  They knew that I would be leaving at the end of the semester.  And yet, through all of the differences and disconnect, they welcomed me in, explained neighborhood dynamics, shared their culture, and corrected my Spanish.  Much of the time, they were content with merely allowing me to sit and listen to their stories and learn about their lives.  And somehow, through those simple interactions, I have been considered a friend.

Los Angeles has worked its way into my heart, but more importantly, these ladies have opened up their lives and received mine in the process.  It reminds me of the truth that God calls me His friend, in spite of all my failings.  And, in response to His friendship, I must give Him my life.  So also, as these ladies have taken me in, I must share my life with them, and consequently, my faith.

For I have been called, "friend."