Good-bye Michelle

There's an interesting movie Scotty and I watched one time called Good-bye Lenin. In this story a German, teenage boy is trying to protect his emotionally fragile Mom, who was in a coma when the Berlin wall came down, from finding out that there was no more East and West Germany (her husband had left them to start a life in West Germany years earlier). This kid went to great lengths to shield his mom from media, even playing recorded shows on TV for her, to keep her from facing the harsh reality. Sometimes I think we wish that certain realities that are tough could be smoothed over for us, that we could live in our own fantasy world with life ordered just the way we like it so that it wouldn't be too upsetting. I've made an amazing friend here named Michelle. John and Michelle had recently come to La Paz as Scotty and I were making our exit a couple years ago. In the first few days after returning, John and Michelle invited us over for dinner, and we realized something that we hadn't had a chance to realize before- we really enjoyed each other! The past half year (has it already been that long?!) has been enhanced by the time we've spent with this couple...laughing hard, watching movies together, sharing our struggles in life and ministry, trading favors (we watch their baby in exchange for free internet and phone calls home from their house), cooking, and generally connecting on levels that we aren't able to reach so quickly with most people. Michelle has a gift of encouragement and has used it quite effectively in my life to pull me out of the dumps I have been in. She has incredible gifts for working with street kids, an amazing work ethic and ability to adapt to many different situations that most people would crumble when presented with, a heart to bless others through friendship and hospitality, a skill with food that has pleased my hungry tummy many times over, and a selflessness that comes from a deep desire to serve God. John and Michelle have been fierce competitors in Settlers of Catan and even introduced us to the next level of fanaticism by teaching us Cities and Knights of Catan. Michelle even helped me pick apart my first, enormous turkey last Thanksgiving. I couldn't ask for a better friend and know that another friend just like Michelle will not come along. But I am up to facing the reality that her body can not handle the altitude that we live in. Although she has been relatively OK up until this point, her heart is no longer coping and she has strict instructions from her doctor to return home. Chances are slim that John and Michelle will be able to return. I am grateful for the time God has given us to be together, to share life in so many ways, and for the knowledge that our friendship will not end when she leaves this Sunday. But, I would like to take the opportunity to share with you who she is and how she has brightened my life.

Spymara

So you know how people say "Spanglish" when referring to a person speaking a mix of both Spanish and English at the same time? Well, we visited a rural church out in the middle of nowhere today whose pastor was speaking "Spymara"- a mix of Spanish and Aymara. Aymara is the native language of the people of the region we live in, an interesting sounding language that has nothing at all to do with Spanish. Our team leaders were invited to celebrate the 4th anniversary of this tiny church, 3 hours from La Paz, that they helped get started. They thought it would be a perfect opportunity for the church plant team to travel together, support this body of believers, and work together to bless them. So, we set out early this morning, heading toward Chile, and arrived just in time to hear the preacher in this new, fascinating language I have titled Spymara. The people of Santiago de Callapa (the town's name) welcomed us with open arms and big smiles as we packed into the back of their tiny, one-room church. They gave us the opportunity to share a word, a puppet show for the kids, and teach them how to make salvation bracelets- the ones with the 5 colored beads that help kids to remember different parts of the gospel. I had several older women give me huge, wet kisses on the cheeks and bear hugs as if they were greeting an old friend they hadn't seen for years. We were prayed for by several as the "missionaries from far off countries", which humbled me greatly seeing as though I don't feel that it's as difficult to live where I do in Bolivia as these people who hardly have the bare necessities. After our time in the service, we were hardily encouraged to come join the congregation for lunch, which can always be a scary prospect as many foreigners who spend time in the country come back to the city with plumbing issues (or nasty stomach problems, if you aren't catching my lingo). I'll leave you with a nice photo revisit of our trip:

The building with the flag attached is the mudbrick church that hosts about 20 members. In front are some of the kids from our church plant team interacting with the kids in the community.

Men. Most of the hombres we met today were middle aged to old(er). The two lighter skinned guys kneeling in the front are Greg (left) and Gigi, one of our church plant teammates.Laughing ladies. These women from the church are chowing down and enjoying each others company after an all-night prayer vigil and long church service this morning. You might think this was someones storage room, but it's actually the kitchen! Here, many, many bowls of food were created for about 50-60 adults and children. I'm not sure how many animals had to be butchered to feed us, but I know that Bolivians tend to be quite generous and go a bit overboard for any type of celebration. We were definitely appreciative of thier kindness and sacrifice.Here is lunch- a massive chunk of dark, greasy sheep, a salad, potatoes, baked plantain, and chuno (a potato relative that has been freeze dried repeatedly and rehydrated- not so yummy). I barely ate half of my portion because the custom is to load the bowl (so as to fit more than a plate) with as much food as it will hold. Well, my stomach would not hold this much and I was a wee bit scared of the salad which had most definitely been washed in tap water (dirty!) or not washed at all (even dirtier). Thankfully, I have not had an instance of getting sick off country food yet, praise be to God, and I am still feeling fine now, some hours later. You are expected to eat all the food, and the locals never have a problem with this, but us gringos tend to be less skilled in this arena. I usually will finish even if I'm bursting at the end, but I just couldn't do it today.

We were thankful to have the reminder of the simplicity that most Bolivians live in and the perspective of rural church life and the struggles they face. Sometimes we can too easily get caught up in the lives of upper class, which is what we would be considered here and the majority of the people we work with. After coming out of a very sobering movie last night, I was confronted with a small band of young shoe-shiners- a very common profession for young boys (and some girls) in the city. They were working late and they were all very obviously high from sniffing glue. One of the boys happened to be Miguel, a kid of probably 10-12 years of age, whom we had seen the day before and promised to bring him a pair of shoes on Monday, meeting up at that very theatre that we had just left. Miguel was a boy Scotty had met years ago when he would go out onto the streets late at night to play soccer and try to befriend the kids, and was high enough to mistake Scotty for another guy who probably comes out to visit as well. Most street kids have no desire to work, but we were encouraged that Miguel was shining shoes. It was a hard reality for me to see, a few of the many who live on the streets, and one that we know personally, abandoned and high. There are many needs in Bolivia, and the greatest is the hope of the gospel. I am being confronted often these days with this truth.

Napoleon dodgeball

Introducing Napoleon, Kip, Lafawnduh, Deb, and Uncle Rico. These 5 signed up to play in a dodgeball tournament today and decided that their theme would be Napoleon Dynamite. We had a spaghetti dinner last night, with the movie playing in the background for inspiration, and discussed the various plays that would be used to crush the opponents. I don't think I've laughed so hard in a long time when I saw the team all come out, dressed up as their characters. When they initially came out onto the gym floor, they reinacted a few classic scenes- Napoleon pulling Kip into town on his rollerblades, Deb snapping Glamour shots pictures, Uncle Rico throwing the football (and basically acting like a fool), Lafawnduh meeting Kip at the bus station, and the whole team doing interpretive sign to music. They were a hit with the audience and are doing pretty well in the actual game too. As I type, they are still playing, so I'll have to get back to you with the final outcome. It's fun to be married to Napoleon Dynamite.

It's my birthday!

Ok, so it was yesterday, but here's a recap of one of the best birthdays ever!

Scotty informed me last week of his plans to take me to Urmiri, a location in the middle of nowhere (literally, there is nothing for miles around except tiny agriculture fields) that boasts hot springs! We woke up early on my birthday, I made blueberry muffins from a box that my great friend Laura sent me, and we took off early enough to make it to Urmiri before lunch. The hotel that sits on these hot springs is a branch of one that is in town, so we made early reservations last week. They warned us that if there weren't 10 people staying at the hotel, they would not be turning on the electricity because it is apparently run by motor and too much trouble to deal with if there aren't enough people. But don't worry, they assured us, the hotel will provide candles. So, after a 2 hours drive through the altiplano (the plateau outside of La Paz that sits at 13,000ft.), we started twisting and turning down a dirt road into a small valley nestled between gorgeous, green mountains. We had prayed for good weather and God chose to bless us both days with sunny skies all day- something we haven't seen around here for months because of the rainy season. We popped out of a short tunnel and came upon the large, melon-colored Hotel Gloria. The hotel itself has charm, but is fairly old and basic. But the grounds have been taken care of and are obviously undergoing continuous improvement. There are flowers of all colors planted everywhere and springing out of large pots wherever there is room for them. The hotel has several different pools fed by the hot springs, and one natural pool where the water falls into from above, with a little stream of cold water piped in just so it is comfortable enough to stand. There are trails winding through the surrounding mountains leading to incredible vistas and other little grassy areas well-manicured by the hotel. I found a little stream on one of the trails and stuck my foot in the water, but it was too hot to even stand for more than a couple seconds! The awesomeness of God's creativity and beautiful creation really impacted us in this place. We spent the afternoon exploring, hiking, swimming and sunbathing- my ideal for a birthday (or any day, for that matter!). It turned out that we were the only guests that evening, so we shared a yummy dinner alone in the dining room, enjoying the attentiveness of the kitchen staff, and returned to our dark room (remember, no electricity) to watch a couple movies on a borrowed DVD player that had just enough battery power for that. Before movie time, we took a walk out to a covered picnic area, Scotty wearing his headlamp, that rested on the side of a mountain to watch the stars. I don't think I've ever seen so many stars at one time before. The sky was black and clear and it seemed that you couldn't focus on one spot in the sky without eventually seeing a star appear. It was breathtaking and a perfect end to a wonderful day. This morning, we enjoyed the dining room to ourselves, once again, for breakfast. We took a different trail up a mountain, led by two collies that live at the hotel, and spent some time in prayer as we looked down over a valley far below. What a merciful God we have to provide such creation for us to enjoy and to remind us how great He is. I'm thankful to be married to man who enjoys treating me to a short time away, celebrating my life and all that God has given us in marriage.

Did we make a mistake?

So when I went to go pick up the kittens from the vet, their eyes were dialated and they were "drunk", as the vet explained they would remain for the rest of the day. They looked fine and were still alive, although they had these large bandages wrapped up to their armpits on both front legs. I asked how long the bandages had to stay and the vet told me 15 days. 15 days!! How in the world was I going to keep two kittens from tearing off bandages for 2 weeks? Well, the question was quickly answered when they both managed to pull them off, even in their drunken stuper, the moment we returned home. They seemed quite confused and irritated with these inhibiting wraps, their little legs extended and crossing over themselves which made for a lot of falling over and tripping. It was quite funny for a few moments, until the bandages came off. Then, I started panicking and imagined all the stitches immediately popping out, blood pouring everywhere, resulting, I'm sure, in amputation of both paws. Then they decided the litter box sure looked interesting and why didn't they fall into it so that they could get infections as well.... We finally managed to call the vet, both trying to hold squirmy, intoxicated kitties so that their precious feet wouldn't touch the ground, who told us to come back so she could rewrap them. Hmmm...30 more minutes back up into town, or a vet that is just down the hill from us (that we hadn't yet visited)? The answer was clear and so we packed Cheddar and Malphurs back into their cage and booked it to the vet, while I tried to hold back my tears of fear. Did I happen to mention that in my conversing with the vet who did the surgery, I found out this was the first time she had ever declawed a cat (except in school, of course)? Oh, yes- that was extremely encouraging. So, we arrived at the new vets office, and I swear I heard angels singing when we walked through the doors into a very modern looking office with a beautiful garden surrounding it. My tenseness melted away as she explained that she never bandages the cats feet when she declaws (meaning she had done this before) and that the stiches were sufficient. Yay, no amputations! We're definitely going back to her.

So, we decided since the cats are on their best behavior, still recovering from the trauma, we should invite our neighbors over for dinner. I prepared a simple, yummy meal of beef curry and corn and squash casserole, and Hortencia and Edgar came up (they live below us) at about 7. We enjoyed several hours of chatting with them about everything from art, to weather, to politics, to travel. I expressed my desire to learn how to cook Bolivian dishes, which got me the invitation to come down before lunch some day and watch their maid cook. They were quite pleased that we had asked them over and promised to return the favor by having us over next week for a typical Bolivian dinner. We are hoping and praying that this relationship will only grow deeper and are thankful for landlords as kind as them!

Cruel and Unusual

Our kittens have reached that wonderful age where they begin to become a bit more aggresive and have an undeniable urge to destroy the couches we bought a few months ago with their razor sharp claws. We've tried smacking them, saying "no!", spraying them with water, etc., but to no avail. So, we finally contacted a vet to get them neutered and declawed (just in the front). The first vet I talked to who sells us our kitty food said, "you know, declawing your cat is really a painful process. I recommend that you just buy clippers and clip their nails. It's inhumane, really". OK, I guess she's not going to do it. So we call another vet close to where we used to live who is happy to preform both procedures- without the guilt trip. Meanwhile, everyone who asks me where I got those big, red, ugly scratches on my hand, is appauled and horrified when I explain that they're from my cats, but "don't worry, we're getting their nails taken out this week.". What??!! (Scruntching up face and opening eyes very wide) You can't do that! One woman said, "I didn't know they do that here!" Apprently, we aren't fit to be cat parents. But, I have to continue to remind myself that every cat we ever owned growing up had its front claws removed and afterward, lived a very full, happy life.

Scotty and I will lead fuller, happier lives when the shreds on our couches don't get worse, and the shredding of my hands and arms goes away.

Rompecabezas

"Rompecabezas" literally means "head-breaker", but is also the Bolivian word for puzzle. I feel very much like God is working the pieces of a puzzle together in our ministry here, in a way we didn't expect or imagine...as He always seems to do. When I left you on Sunday, Scotty and I were about to take a walk around the neighborhood. We spent an hour or so looking at houses and land, and happened to be on a piece of property across the street from the couple we met on Friday (who have been holding an evangelistic Bible study in their home for 3 years) when Carmen (the wife) came out onto the lawn and invited us over for tea. We accepted and happily entered thier warm home again with a table full of snacks and two smiling Bolivians awaiting us to chat. They were anxious to hear about our church plant, what our plans are, and when it will all start. It seems as though they have a garage full of neighborhood kids every other Sunday that have been informed that they will have a church to attend before too long. Carmen and Marcelo invite the children of the area over to watch a Bible cartoon, sing, and do crafts. Initially, most of the kids would join in on the fun, but the children of the upper class began to notice that the lower class kids sometimes came dirty and weren't like them, so they don't come anymore. But, their parents attend the Bible studies on Friday nights. Unfortunately, the lower class parents don't feel comfortable in the home of a middle to upper class family, so they don't attend. Either way, our friends have an inroad into the lives of all those represented in this community. How cool is that?! And to boot, they have the same desire as us and the Hursts to reach both upper and lower classes, and feel that will be possible only in a neutral location, like a church. We pray that will be the case. They shared the history of many neighbors who come, most are hungry to hear the Word and know more about God, but haven't been able to give up their Catholic traditions and background. The street on the right is where many of the Bible study attendents live, after being warmly invited by our friends, Marcelo and Carmen.

Because Bolivia has such a close relationship with the government of Cuba, Castro decided a while back to inundate Bolivia with Cuban doctors, who unfortunately take away jobs from Bolivian doctors. Three Cuban doctors arrived some time back in Mallasilla and while most of the neighborhood was a bit up in arms about their presence, Carmen and two other women decided they would welcome them with cake, flowers, and a Bible. One of those doctors now comes faithfully to the meetings and can often be found reading her Bible in the clinic. So, the pieces are coming together for the beginnings of a church here. Did I mention that Carmen and Marcelo offered us their garage to begin meetings here? We are so excited to see what happens next.

Sunday

Sunday is probably my favorite day of the week. Although there is always a little bit of apprehension for Scotty and I about leading our church plant meetings in the morning, we are always joyful about what God does during that time. Scotty does a great job of searching through Systematic Theology to find guidance and wisdom in how to study the attributes of God (what we are going over with the team), and then translates those ideas into Spanish. We spend the morning singing, praying, and studying the Word together. Usually we will go out to lunch with friends, but decided today that we were going to have a picnic at the top of a nice look-out in the neighborhood. We went to our favorite coffee shop/restaurant, Alexander Coffee, ordered the nachos (big and greasy) for Scotty and a nice Asian salad (green and healthy) for me. We chatted on the way home about the different ways God is working in our team and in the community to prepare the way for His church, and reminded each other that God uses us for His good purposes despite our shortcomings and doubts. Upon arriving home, the sunny morning had quickly turned grey and cold, so we decided to picnic in the kitchen. We enjoyed lunch and the prospect of a long, relaxing afternoon. I recently finished a book by Lauren Winner called Mudhouse Sabbath where she describes and compares a handful of Jewish traditions to Christian ones. One of those was the Sabbath day, when Jews refrain from any type of work or anything that could possibly resemble work, to mediate on the Lord and truly rest in Him. I am challenged by this idea, knowing that Sundays are often days where I let myself be lazy, which is totally different from rest. How often do I really take the time to think about who God is, to spend time thanking Him for His goodness in my life, for life itself? Am I willing to sacrifice even time with friends to be alone with my Savior and seek to know Him more? Anyway, after lunch we snuggled into the bed for a time of reading while the wind picked up outside and the drops began to fall. I am slowly working through a Spanish novel and sometimes even convince myself that this pleasure reading could be called "homework". At one point I began to look around me at our bedroom: the fun, new bedspread we had made for our extra-long mattress; the woven trunk I bought a few years ago in Cochabamba; the huge, wood doors of our big closets; and my husband sitting next to me, content in his novel. I gave a prayer of thanks to God for providing such wonderful things for us, knowing that it is only through His grace that we have anything good, and relaxed in the knowledge that He gives perfect peace an rest through knowing Him. We'll take a walk around the neighborhood in a few minutes, exploring new homes being built and dreaming about the day we will build our own, saying "hola" to the neighbors, breathing in the fresh air after a good rain. Tonight we'll spend time with our great friends, John and Michelle (and little, sleeping Ethan), remembering again the gift of friendship that we've been given in this couple, and trying desperately to beat them in Cities and Knights of Catan. Sundays are good days.