Interview with Kirsten Matsumoto

Interview by Karin Forno of Kirsten Matsumoto, 11/24/2020

What would you like a reader to know about you? What do you do? How did you come to be at  St. Mary's?

I grew up in the East Bay in Piedmont, California, and attended St. Paul's Oakland Episcopal  Church where my mother Nancy was the coordinator of the Sunday school. So we went every  Sunday, and being a part of the Episcopal Church as a child was a big part of who I grew up to  be. We had this great youth group and we would go on ski trips and backpacking trips and we  didn't realize then how formative that was. Really that was just the backdrop of how I grew up.  Later, I went to Cal Berkeley and at that point my mother (Nancy Axell) was the Dean of the Lay Academy for the Diocese of California, next door to Grace Cathedral in San Francisco. When I was finishing my degree, I sought career counseling from my mother: “Mom, I think I want to go find out about developing countries.” Her suggestion was, “Why don't you write to some Episcopal bishops in Latin America?” I wrote to several bishops: the bishop of El  Salvador, the bishop of Peru, Ecuador, whatever. I just wrote letters and I said, “I'm graduating from college and I don't know any Spanish, but I would love to come and volunteer.” And only one of them wrote me back, and that was the Episcopal Bishop of Honduras, The Rt. Rev. Leo Frade. His wife, Diana Frade, is the founder and president of Our Little Roses. I ended up working in Honduras  for four years and just loved what I was doing.

While I was in Honduras, Diana started Honduras’s first home for girls. There were no orphanages at the time for girls, only for boys. She decided that we needed to do something about the little girls who were begging in the street. She would house them and educate them to be contributing members of society. They would live at Our Little Roses until they were 18 years old.

I had been working for two years as an English teacher in a bilingual Honduran Episcopal school, and by that time spoke conversational Spanish, so I jumped at the chance to be the first volunteer at Our Little Roses and stayed another couple of years. I came back to California to get a master's degree in public administration, always thinking I was going to return to Honduras. I attended MIIS (Middlebury Institute of International Studies at Monterey) and met George, who's now my husband, a marine biologist. So George derailed my plans to return to Honduras. I got a job as a Spanish teacher (in the Monterey area) and we raised our children here. Once the last one graduated from high school, I returned to Honduras.

In 2018, I began my next tenure at Our Little Roses by reinforcing the English program at our school, Holy Family Bilingual School. I also worked with the staff on positive discipline and ways of working with girls to build up their self-esteem. Over the years, I do pretty much whatever Diana needs me to do, whether it's write letters, speak with people, or program planning.

It's a pretty big operation. There are about 60 staff people, and I do work with the staff as well as the 65 girls. We have a school for 250 community children. We have a medical clinic and dental clinic that serve our girls and staff, as well as the community at large. We have a retreat center in the mountains that people rent out for weddings and other group events. There are a lot of things going on. We have become much more than a safe place for girls, even though that is our primary objective.

How did you end up at St. Mary's? 

Well, that's because of my sister Brita Bruemmer. 

Brita was living here as well, and she had a friend who went to St. Mary's and invited us. In 1993, George and I were married here by Marcia Lockwood on a Tuesday night in December. It was beautiful!

George and I got married and then we moved to South Australia. We went to Australia  for three years where he was an associate college professor. By that time we had children. I knew that I wanted them to know about the Episcopal Church. We would let them make their own decisions about church attendance, but wanted them to know enough about the rituals and community in a religious setting.

Daniel was just a toddler when we moved back from Australia and then we had Kevin, whom Marcia baptized. The boys went to Sunday school and particularly liked All God’s Children stories.

How has the pandemic affected your everyday life? 

It has affected me in a lot of good ways because working so far away from Honduras, I can easily be left out of the loop when I'm not there in person. One of the things that I had to do right away was get a Zoom account because Zoom does not sell accounts in Honduras. I got one Zoom account for everyone.

Because of Zoom bridging international barriers, I actually feel much more included in Honduras. There really wasn't any other work-around. The school could do Zoom teaching. They can get the free educational accounts that are for 40 minutes, but they can't buy it for longer. We made classes 35 minutes long and our schedule has links to all the classes so I can pop in to all of the classes from Monterey.

I have the schedule, the classes and all the links and I just pop into the classes. I was in two  classes this morning, 10th grade and 11th grade literature. So for me the pandemic meant that  we had to restructure how to do school and how to do distance learning and then how I could  be part of the ministry in Honduras and still be helpful. It brought Honduras into the twenty-first century in terms of technology. Everybody had to figure out how to connect and before they didn't have to do that.

And this isn’t everyday life, but we've had two family members die this year, my father-in-law and my cousin. And that's been hard, I think, not being able to be with family members, grieve.

I'm wondering if your experiences and your feelings formed a pattern or a trajectory that you could talk about? 

Well, it's kind of interesting because in the beginning I was in Honduras when I started hearing about this virus. I was in Honduras from February 4th to March 4th. I was still planning on coming back in May. I think the initial shock to the system was just disbelief. Like “this can't really affect me. I feel really sorry for the people it's going to affect, but that's not me.”

George was in Australia that March and he had to quarantine for a week in Perth. When
Tom Hanks tested positive in Australia, George was there. Next, George came home and quarantined for an additional 14 days. And still, it seemed like someone else’s problem. I thought, “well, this is new and this is different, but it's not going to be forever.” It wasn’t until it started sinking in that I couldn't get back to Our Little Roses because Honduran borders were closed that I became quite anxious and panicky.

In August of 2020. I was on the third flight to Honduras once they opened the borders. On the plane, I thought, “Well, as soon as I get back to Honduras, everything's going to be OK.”  I didn’t realize that I was going to be quarantined for two weeks upon arrival!

It was a shock to go so far away and realize, “Oh, my gosh, I can't do anything here either.” That just hadn't registered. Yet we had to gear up for a new school year of distance learning. That’s when I shifted from disbelief to, “Okay, what's the band-aid, how can we, like, limp along until the next stage?”

In terms of a pattern or trajectory, I live in two very different places. So the impact on me is figuring out how to be in each place, and how to get there. Are people always going to be wearing masks now on airplanes? I certainly do and I probably will from now on, just because I started thinking, “wait a minute, I've been doing all this traveling all my life and never thought about that.”

So how have you stayed involved with St. Mary's during the pandemic?

I've attended church (on Zoom) about as regularly as I do when I'm here in person. I'm also involved in the chapel at Our Little Roses either on Zoom or in person (where we wear masks). I've stayed in touch with Pastor Kristine. She's been extremely supportive of what's happening in Honduras. And it was in one of our Zoom coffee hours, actually, I don't even remember who started the discussion, but [Deacon] Scott Taylor suggested the undergarment drive for the girls. That was a huge thing that through my carrying these essentials to the girls, St. Mary's was able to bring something to the girls that they couldn’t purchase since the beginning of the pandemic because they were not allowed to go shopping.  In addition, we were able to pull off a virtual summer camp at Our Little Roses. Many St. Mary's parishioners participated in our Zoom activities.

What has St. Mary's meant to you during this time?

I don't think until the pandemic, I fully appreciated how lovely it is to be part of a community and that I'm not all alone in this. Obviously, my husband is here and we have our own thing, but I just can't think of a better word than “lovely”, to represent that on Sunday mornings there are a group of us pilgrims who are going to get together and listen to the word of the Lord and just for that moment in time, be united with a  group of people. That has meant a lot and I didn't realize that a Zoom church meeting would mean so much, but it does. Also, the opportunity to be able to communicate both with Pastor Kristine and in the Zoom gatherings from Honduras, it's been nice. 

Have you thought about what St Mary's might be like or what the other important things in your life like Our Little Roses might be like in the future? Do you think the pandemic will change us permanently? 

You know, those first few weeks of the pandemic everybody was so supportive. “Let's all remember to do this and let's all remember that we haven't lost the most important things in

life.” And then that fell apart as soon as the election started rearing its head. People got very partisan: “I have this and you don't have that”. So that little bubble of hope, I think, was a little bit burst, but it would be nice for us to remember that being together is the most important thing. I would love to see that maybe that means simplifying things.

What habits or practices, such as fairly small things or regular things that you do, have been the most important for you during the pandemic?

When I'm in Honduras, it's tricky because I live where I work, and so it's a twenty-four/ seven situation unless I put some boundaries in, so I have been watching Netflix series and things like  that that are just kind of rewards at the end of the day or just a way to decompress and turn  everything else off. I'll go hours and hours without checking email or phone. And people will have texted me from Honduras usually at five pm, and I don't look at it for hours because I just tune out and sometimes that's a problem. But other times I'm thinking “Just because you text me doesn't mean I have to answer,” right? 

One big question I've been asking people is, how have you dealt with the uncertainty?

I think the nature of my work is that I'm working with a population that does not have resources like we're used to. So I have an advantage in that. One of the things that my priest in Honduras says at the start of every meeting or service is “Thank you, God, for giving us another day of life.” And every time I tell that to someone, including now, I always get choked up. It really is that simple.

In Honduras people realize that life is a gift. You know, on top of the pandemic, they had two hurricanes within 10 days. So if we start each morning thanking God for the gift of life, it's like everything else is gravy or [we might say], “Oh, that's unfortunate, but it's not going to ruin my day.”

I also have the advantage that George is a scientist and Brita is a doctor, so I can talk to both of them asking, “Is this stuff really true? Like this piece of information that just came across my computer? Is that true or is that fake news or what's going on?” So I can kind of ground everything with them. 

One funny anecdote is that since the early days of the pandemic in Honduras our staff has been washing the tires of any vehicle that comes inside our compound. Also, we have a driver who has been going around ever since March, picking up the workers every day at their homes so they won’t have to ride a bus. When they come to work, they get their temperature checked. They even have different clothes that they get into. They also wash the shoes of anybody coming in. There are astroturf doormats in pans of bleach at each exterior threshold. So every time you go indoors, you're washing your feet.

And from my privileged viewpoint, I think, “Oh, really? You’re washing the tires? And shoes?” And in the back of my mind, I'm thinking, “This is fake news they're getting from somewhere; how is washing tires ever going to help?” But the stakes are high in Honduras. Many in our extended community have died. And thanks to these protocols, not one of our girls has gotten Covid, so who am I to judge?

Has your relationship to spiritual things changed as a result of the pandemic, would you say, or not?

This year it has definitely deepened, but I don't know if that's because of my work or because of the pandemic or because the pandemic has shifted my work. I can't explain some things that have happened, good and bad, and I think that following Jesus is a good place for me to start, personally.

There are some things . . . like a week ago Monday, Hurricane Iota was bearing down on  Honduras. And I was up at 5:40 in the morning because it was my Zoom account and we were having a prayer vigil with all of the students at our school for the sole purpose of praying that the second hurricane would not be as bad as the first one. All these little kids prayed and prayed and prayed. We prayed for an hour because they all had so much to ask God. All told, two hundred kids prayed for an hour that the storm wouldn’t hit them.

And I was just thinking the whole time, “this is good, this is going to make people feel better that we're a community, but weather is weather and there's nothing we can do.” Twenty-four hours later, the path of the storm shifted south and it didn't go over San Pedro Sula again. There were a lot of effects from it, all the flooding--people are still underwater. There's still no drinking water. There's no potable water. It's a mess. But the fact that the winds and everything just passed over our little school--I don't need God to necessarily prove to me that she's up there and doing this.

I think it's just very clear that having faith helps in these situations. Because when you're praying with those little kids in the wee hours of the morning, still dark out, and they're terrified, what else is there? These kids were in tears because they had barely lived through the hurricane the week before, and here they were, clutching their stuffed animals. I just think that God's there. I can't explain it, I just feel it.

So there may be a lot of things, but what are some things that you would like to do that you're  not able to do now because of the pandemic?

I would love to go to the beach when I'm in Honduras but they will most likely still be on lockdown. I would love to visit my mom at Merrill Gardens without a window of glass in between us.

What about this time in the pandemic has surprised you the most? 

I feel like I've been able to simplify my life and get into a place where everything doesn't seem so overwhelming. My example for that is that I have one son who lives in Los Angeles and one in San Francisco. Before [we’ve always said] “well, we'll see you sometime, whenever you're home or we'll come to Los Angeles sometime.” And then six months go by.

Early on I said, “what would you think about having a weekly Zoom call?” And we could play some games and they’re online games. You can play them thinking, “OK, this will last for like three weeks and then they'll get bored of it, but then at least I can see them.” We've been doing it every week and especially when I was in Honduras. There's a weekly Zoom meeting and then I started another one with my sisters and my mom. And so that surprised me, that with just a little bit of effort, I'm actually closer to regular, more frequent contact with people

What's been the most difficult thing about the pandemic for you?

I think that even though so much of it has been great about work, it was very hard not being there for five months, so not being able to get to work, which in my case is in Honduras. And then it's been difficult that Brita lives next door [but] we never have dinners together anymore or anything. We don't hang out at all, and she's at risk, obviously, being a doctor, she doesn't want to take anything to her office.

And then the number one thing is not being able to see my mom and just give her a hug.

That’s something that I just took for granted that I won't take for granted again. Brita and I are concerned about Mom's health. She's super strong and she's getting older, so of course, we want her to get out of this pandemic before her health takes a turn for the worse. Should that ever happen! She'll probably outlive all of us. But I think my connection with her needs to be more in person.

You may have said this already, but has anything about the pandemic been positive?

The positive things, I think, are just paring down [to] what’s really essential. I am not a social person. I never need to go to another Christmas party as long as I live. I don't like getting together for social events. So it's nice not to have to come up with an excuse! Another nice thing was I was really overworked, because I was moonlighting at the Aquarium as a teacher trainer in their education department, which is in this grand, wonderful new building.  And I loved everybody I worked with, and I loved what I was doing. We would do teacher institutes every summer and I would spend the year working on that. But I knew that the Honduras job was getting bigger, and I was really stretched thin. And, lo and behold, I was in the first round of layoffs from the aquarium. 

I feel for everyone whose livelihood has depended on the Aquarium, however. And that extends to the restaurants and the hotels and the cleaning services and the car wash and all that. I am in a place of privilege that I haven't lost my job, my real job. And my husband is still employed. So I am grateful.