The melody of my alarm clock sounded far too early for my liking. I rolled out of bed, pulled on brightly colored leggings and a patterned kurta, my usual attire in India, and Kathryn and I set out from our apartment onto the already muggy streets. After struggling to find a taxi that would take us the short distance to St. Paul’s Cathedral and paying what we knew to be far too much for the brief ride, we arrived at 7:30am for the only mass in English at the church. We were two of approximately twelve people total in the side room where the service was held, including the priest and the readers! The mass was short, not even 45 minutes long, but I felt eyes on me the whole time. When mass was over, it was raining outside, we could not find a single cab to take us the 3 miles home, a stranger tried to help us but then just left us to fend for ourselves, and eventually we had to pay a cabbie double the price we had paid earlier that morning in order to get home. However, “vale le pena,” a phrase I learned studying abroad in El Salvador the year before: it was worth it.

St. Paul’s Cathedral

As Kathryn and I sat back in that expensive cab ride home, we talked about how we had been missing church, community, and reminders of why we were even in India in the first place. For me, I believe in a good God who has entrusted us to “bring His Kingdom,” as they say in the Christian church. In other words, to strive to make the world a little more like what God intended it to be: to learn from others, work towards love, and right the injustices that plague our world. All I can do is my little part. This greater purpose motivated by God’s ultimate love is what makes the hard times, the learning experiences, the challenges, the exciting adventures, and the interactions worth it. I learned that it is important for me to carry these truths with me as I move forward through each phase of life and as I strive to do my part to bring these changes. I have always been driven by my hope in a loving God, but my experience in India reminded me of the emptiness actions seem to have if they do not point to someone beside myself. Our visit to St. Paul’s Cathedral was a good active reminder of this faith I strive to carry with me.

A plaque at Mother Teresa’s tomb in Kolkata

As I move into the next time period of my life, to some extent I get to choose what I think my part in bringing love to our world is. What a privilege to have this choice! While many around the world are trapped by their surroundings, I am presented with a range of opportunities. While this fact sickens me a bit, I carry with me the stories of the people I have met and seek to honor them and the love God has shown me with the choices I make next. I have come to define my vocation as: where the cries of the world meet the joys of my heart. Over the past year, I have had a closer view of some of these cries, outside the borders of the United States. Specifically, I have had two significant international experiences getting to know and working with marginalized women in the handicraft sector. I have learned more about cultural and structural barriers limiting women’s opportunities, the need for further education and investment in women, and my own passion for women’s empowerment.

Women learning to use the computer for the first time

As I move into the next stage of my life, I hope to spend some time working in Central America alongside women. I take joy in practicing Spanish and improving my communication skills in another language. I have seen a very small portion of the needs and potential for change from the experiences I’ve had in El Salvador and Nicaragua. Now, I hope to spend more time delving into community development, working with women by partnering with a locally owned and run organization, whether it be a social enterprise introducing innovative solutions or a consistent, longstanding nonprofit.

This fellowship has reminded me how much more I have to learn and grow personally. When it was easy for me to be frustrated or grumpy in India, I struggled with my own reactions to challenging situations, not with the situations themselves. As I move forward, I know I will learn even more about myself, what gives me life, how to live, how to love, and about the people around me.

Me on a volcano in El Salvador

“Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, falling in love in a quite absolute and finite way.
 What are you are in love with, what seizes your imagination, it will affect everything.
 It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning, what you will do with your evenings, how you will spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart and what amazes you with joy and gratitude.
 Fall in love. Stay in love.
 And it will decide everything.”

-Pedro Arrupe, SJ

“Let us not tire of preaching love, it is the force that will overcome the world. Love must win out; it is the only thing that can.”

-Romero

Plans always change. Situations arise, reality is different than it was explained to be, and complications push themselves into scheduled activities. There will always be bumps along the way. In India, quite literally, a bump in the road proved a significant surprise.

I had been visiting a DREAM training center about four hours journey out of northern Kolkata. That morning I left at 9:45am with my guide, Raghumoni. We discovered upon arrival at the first bus depot that the bus we intended to take was out of commission. One hundred and fifty kilometers, an auto rickshaw ride, three different trains, and a bike rickshaw ride later, we arrived at the training center. For a few hours we sat, met the women at the center, and Raghumoni explained information about the DREAM program, both to the women as well as the NGO partners who provide the space for the class. I sat to the side, unable to understand the Bengali exchanges, while the discussions played out.

The women of the DREAM training center

Around 4:30pm, two and a half hours after arriving, we left for our return trip home. We transferred from the first bus to a second one. However, after a few hours of driving down the dark road that cuts through the rural countryside, a bump or a rock or maybe just too much normal wear and tare presented a problem: the bus, crammed with people, had a flat tire. At first, I did not know there was a problem. We stopped at a stand along the roadside, everyone got out for bathroom breaks and snacks, and we waited in the light drizzling rain. After a while, I gathered from Raghumoni that the bus needed repair, a repair that would take about half an hour. In Indian terms, I knew that meant an hour or more. When he changed his estimate to be about an hour for repair, I knew we could be waiting a very long time. Eventually, Raghumoni talked our way onto another bus, and I squeezed into a seat with a mother and her daughter. With a shy giggle, the woman tried to talk to me. Her daughter knew a few phrases in English, so they asked what my name was and where I was from, and they gifted me with a small plastic bag of peanuts!

This new bus we got a ride on was not going to take me all the way to the guesthouse where I was staying. I called ahead to Rosella and Kathryn, my teammates, and they agreed to meet me at the bus stations drop off point so I did not have to brave the public transportation alone! Around 10pm, I arrived at the meeting point, with another half hour journey ahead of us, but at least I could breath easily in a familiar area of town surrounded by familiar faces.

Kathryn, Rosella, and I

Challenges and surprises, to differing degrees of intensity, were a common occurrence during our 8 weeks in Kolkata. However, times like these highlighted a range of aspects of my personality, both surprising and familiar. First, I found in myself the ability to calmly address and deal with unexpected circumstances. As I stood in the dark in the countryside of Kolkata next to the broken-down bus, I processed the news, refusing to be flustered. When I found out the new bus would not take me all the way to my final destination, I problem solved, calling friends I knew I could rely on. Upon arriving back after the flat tire incident, my teammates’ encouraging presence and words reminded me of the unique patience I had had throughout the day. They pointed out to me my ability to keep a cool composure and flex with the days’ adventures.

Upon returning to the United States, when people ask me if it was hard to be in India because of the poverty, the conditions, or the other challenges that come with an overpopulated, underfunded city lacking infrastructure and development, my first response is no, that wasn’t what made the trip challenging. More challenging for me were personal struggles.

As I stood alone by the bus in need of repair and people chatted around me, I became more and more frustrated with the language barrier between us. While I knew of myself that I am a people person, this fact had never been so strongly revealed to me. I struggled with not being able to hear people’s stories, understand parts of their lives, and learn from them. As at the training center before the flat tire incident, I spent a lot of time sitting and watching and trying to muster up the courage to approach people, smile or point at things, and spark some small interaction. I thrived off of those brief interactions: receiving peanuts, exchanging a few words with the women on the bus, or receiving support from my teammates after a long day.

Sitting with some DREAM women

As I move into the next stage of life – graduation, searching for work, exploring volunteer opportunities, considering grad school – I see myself thriving working abroad. I know I can handle new circumstances and their ups and downs. I learn from people and adapt with them in order to flourish in unfamiliar situations. I also know that in order to succeed long term I need to be able to communicate with others: either already speaking their language or learning it. Community and building relationships drive me, something I know as essential to my wellbeing.

My name is Monet Eleri Gonnerman. My first name is French (even though I am not!), my middle name is Welsh (after my mom’s first cousin), and my last name is German (somewhere generations ago). I have never met anyone with any of these three names (outside of my family), teachers always mispronounce them, and no one ever knows how to spell them. However, I like my name. It is unexpected, and makes people stop and think for a second.

Beautiful Portland, Oregon

I grew up in a suburb of Portland, Oregon. My parents have always been a loving support and inspiration for me, and my brother, two years younger than me, has always been my playmate and friend. The Pacific Northwest provided us with the opportunities and joys of biking, hiking, swimming, playing basketball, and building forts in our backyard as children.

My family

Starting in Preschool, my parents decided to try homeschooling my brother and me. They heard about the values of an individualized education and time with their children and, as the years went by, my brother and I had no complaints. We were part of a group of homeschool families that went on regular field trips; we took art classes with our friends; I took ballet classes; we played sports with the local elementary school and middle school; we were a part of youth group at church; and overall, I had a lot of fun. We made close friends, grew as a family, and, year after year, when asked if we wanted to go to public school, my brother and I chose to stay with our friends. Those years of being homeschooled began to reveal parts of who I am. For instance, as one of the oldest of my friends, I was a peacemaker who listened to my friends’ squabbles and worked to bring unity, qualities I see in myself today. In high school, I chose to go to the local public school. Having never opened a locker, eaten lunch in a cafeteria, or carried around books in a backpack, everything was new, different, and a bit overwhelming! On the first day of my freshman year, I missed the school bus! However, as high school went by, my personality got stronger and more confident, I was involved in clubs, sports, and activities that I loved, and made close friends both from school and from church.

Adventure with friends at the beach      

Faith has always been an influential part of my life. Ever since I was young, my parents have prayed for my brother and me and showed their faith in God through their love for each other and for us. My journey with God began as a child-like faith in Sunday school or reading a picture Bible at home, and since has grown and been challenged by life experiences, friends, and new perspectives.

In high school, I went on a mission trip to Nicaragua each summer. Every year, we would go to the same home built for girls rescued from malnutrition, physical abuse, sexual abuse, or poor home lives, who are now given a place to live, learn, and grow. The girls’ families live in the city garbage dump, making a living sifting through the trash for recyclable materials. These girls captured my heart and began to show me firsthand the realities outside of my bubble of privileged life in the United States.

Girls living in the Villa Esperanza in Nicaragua

Motivated by my desire to learn Spanish and my previous experiences in Nicaragua, I chose to study abroad in Fall 2013 in El Salvador, Central America. In the 1980’s, the country experienced a bloody civil war in which the United States funded the military government, leading to massacres of entire villages, displacement of families from their homes, and the death of many civilians. During my four months there, I never met a family untouched by the war. El Salvador is still struggling to get back on its feet. I spent two days of every week with the same three families in an urban community called Mariona. The families fight daily against long commutes to school, unreasonable working hours, unknown diseases, poor health care, and selling odd crafts here and there to put food on the table. The father of one of the families united several women’s craft cooperatives to form one business, El Salvador Craft, from which he takes no profit. He works solely to help the women keep their heads above the water. Yet, with the country’s expensive prices for purchasing copyrights on their products, much of their work is being copied and imported from China.

My Salvadoran family

We also lived with other Salvadoran university students, now my close friends, and got to know the beautiful staff of our program. Over the course of those four months, I saw intense love and intense pain. I learned about the gift of a hospitality and generosity that I will never be able to understand. They cried and I cried. I saw that Jesus’ call to care for the least of his children wasn’t just a suggestion or something to do in retirement: it was a command and something to build my life around.

Salvadoran friends and housemates

I was motivated to apply to be a Global Social Benefit Fellow by a recommendation by a past fellow who had also done the same Casa El Salvador program that I had. El Salvador had taught me, stretched me, reshaped the way I think, and still is teaching me. I am still working through questions of how my faith looks and how to respond to my experiences and best honor the people I got to know. GSBF provides me with an opportunity to continue to expand my interactions with the world, learn from those beyond my immediate sphere of influence, and move forward in action.