Let the 2012 begin

Pardon me, I have the runner's euphoria going on here, so this already fairly optimistic mind is about to be even more so. Why?

Because she has seen a lot of change this year. A lot of good change. While she desires even more, and knows that there are ways this year could have been utilized even better, she is grateful for this 2011 year.

So, a very necessary High Fidelity moment; Top 5 things that changed Sharayah's life in 2011:

Number 5: Learning a new language proficiently enough to teach. I remember meeting in Berlin with Katie and Bryce, and Bryce talking about his frustration with not being able to communicate well enough when talking is his thing. God has blessed me with some rather deep relationships (Sol, Flor and Noemi) in which we are able to delve into God's Word and discussion all in le Castellano. And, although always willing to utilize Javi's assistance, teaching during Escuelita, or having one-on-one conversations with the boys.

Number 4: Living without a cell phone. Without a lot of things really. Without my computer on various travels throughout the country. Without very many clothes or books to read or television or a dryer or a... you get the point. Living without this stuff reminds one that it is just stuff; life will go on and you'll find a way to make do. Because you don't really need it all.

You figure out other ways of communication, for instance. You end up taking a bus to meet someone and they're not there, but it's not because they don't love you. Something came up. And that's okay. Perhaps God had another plan for you in mind..

Number 3: My visit home. Apart from getting to see my parents and family (NOLAN!!!!), it was so interesting to have conversations with the minister of missions at RockPointe for instance. Or the kids and their parents at the church one evening where I shared what I do here "on the island" of Argentina (hehe). I realized how much the kids in the US already have, but I was missing weeks to be with my boys back on Domingo Zipoli.

How can I just let them go on living without someone to love them like Jesus did? Even if I'm a poor example, and need help and forgiveness all the time, at least I'm there. Right?

It changed my perspective on my work overseas, and I'm much more willing to live like this with that thought alone.

Number 2: Visiting the boys' institute. If you haven't read the stories included in this blog, I assume this is your first visit. I can't stop talking about them usually; my mind wanders into how I can make the next week better. How I can make every moment count.

I didn't think I could like hanging out with little kids as much. God has definitely molded my heart in my time with them.

Number 1: Hands down, Iguazu Falls. I have never, EVER, seen anything that beautiful in my life (and that's counting the herd of fish in the Cayman Islands). I have never been so captivated/felt so small/paid so little for an incredible vacation. It's simple for a number one spot, but you'd just have to see it for yourself.

------

So I think I'm ready for the new year to start. I have some Chaco planning to do still, but finances are practically all taken care of which is exciting. I've gone on my first run in a VERY long time. I played the sax last night for the first time in ages. And you know, January might throw things all for a loop since I won't be in the comfort of my own bottom bunk of a bed. But bring it on. Change is good. Hard, but good.

And the Muppet Movie comes out in Argentina in a week.

love and chau,
sharayah from 2011

Christmas in Black River

That is, Rio Negro. Eva had invited me several times to her humble abode in Lamarque, but I only just now had the opportunity to come. I also didn't stay for too long, in effort to not impede on her time with her family.

It was a quiet vacation. We did the usual home visits with mate drinking. The walk to the river and to the local plaza. The eating of asado and chivo..

Of course, it was also Christmas time, as previously mentioned, and most likely deduced for the time of publication. My mom had ordered one thing--to shoot off fireworks in her honor. You see, she's a pyro. I like them myself, but I'm not as crazy about shooting them off.

But I obeyed, and bought 42 pesos, just around 10 dollars of fireworks for all three of us (Eva, Adam and myself) to enjoy. Granted, it was more fun watching the neighbors go crazy with theirs, but I enjoyed my run of the mill Roman Candle and a couple cone shaped cohetes that shot off a wide array of colors.

And there was the 100 Fuegos, which was the grand finale of our fun. Talk about going out with a bang.

We had a day to visit the beach, an area called Las Grutas. Surprisingly, I later found out that it's very close to Puerto Madryn, where my parents and I had visited last year.

As it was getting hotter each day in Lamarque, I prayed for cloudy weather. Adam joked and prayed for sun. I then interrupted his prayer and said that God should listen to me. We had a good laugh.

When we arrived it was.. cloudy! And windy. And cold. Not ideal for the beach, but I was determined to make the most of it. We had a couple hours on the playa, where we made a snow/sand-man, ran around and drew in the sand.

We then waited for an earlier bus to take us back (the original plan was to stay all day), playing Chinchon and Skip-Bo in the terminal.

The bicycle accident

I was ahead of the pack (Javi, Adam and myself), and foresaw an obstacle ahead of us--a large truck blocking both sides of the road. So I entered sidewalk territory until the truck was a good distance behind me, and then re-entered the street.

"Whoa!" They shouted behind me. Apparently I cut Javi off and we were inches from collision.

"That's okay," I chuckled. "You would have been at fault because you're riding the bike behind me."

"But I would've won because you're a woman," Javi retorted, jokingly. And we all laughed. Welcome to machismo, no?

"Fine, you're not getting the prize for the day," I smiled back. After all, the daily prize of alfajores that we give to the boys was in my backpack this time.

We all had a good laugh. And then...

Maybe five minutes later, Javi had pulled ahead, and there was a dog crossing the street. Javi was inches from crashing and killing the dog! It shrieked and appeared to have lost a piece of its tail.

"Ahh, now I have evidence to support my side," I told him. "Who will they believe? The upstanding citizen with no record of bicycle accidents, or the one that almost killed an innocent dog after almost running into a woman?"

On our way home that day, Javi, again in the lead, had looked back to check where we were. It was after one of the more dangerous turns, so sometimes we can lose each other. All I remember was seeing him swerve uncontrollably and go into the sidewalk as another car passed close by.

"What? And now you're drunk?!" I shouted.

All in a day's work. I suppose then the title should have been "The bicycle accident that didn't actually happen," but I thought I'd throw my readers for a loop. Chau!

Lunch

Today. Today was one of the most fun and relaxing days with the boys. Today was also one where everyone was forced to leave the house for several hours so that this could be taken care of:

While last year we were bombarded with cockroaches, this was the year of the Scorpion, if China has a year for that. Now, I've only seen a couple, but apparently they are on rampage in our house. Which explains why this morning we had the house fumigated.

Thankfully, it fell in line with our time with the boys, so I wasn't inconvenienced at all. Chau alacranes :) !!

Any way, back to the boys...

We had no plans again. Just showed up and asked them what they wanted to do. It's good to have these days every now and then; something we don't have to be too tense about. So we went to the river with Sergio, Rodrigo (this would be the third one), and Gabriel (dos).

I joked, "Hey guys, we aren't allowed back in our house for lunchtime, so y'all should catch a couple fish for us so we can eat!"

Who knew that these boys were a regular Bear Grylls?

Sergio, a few minutes later, carried a 1.5 footer in his bare hand. About twenty minutes later, Rodrigo did the same. While Adam and I were talking about the boys on the shore, we watched Rodrigo walk toward us with his prize. He yelled at us that he was coming over. We turned..

.. and then he reached his free hand into the water and pulled out another.

[Jaw. Dropping.]

I mentioned that I was just reading Leviticus this morning about how to determine whether we were technically allowed to eat these fish. They had scales and fins, so check! haha

Gabriel was on shore in the mean time, and he was throwing rocks at the birds. Boys will be boys was the theme for the day. All I could do was laugh, because in a silly way, it was also kind of adorable. These kids could have this freedom to play like boys play.

We returned to a scorpion-free zone. Enjoyed some chicken, and other non-essential life in Argentina details. Chau!

Check

Someone needs to work on their arm muscles--ha!

Do you ever add something to your bucket list simply because you just completed that something and never knew until that moment that you wanted to do it before you died?

So.. how do I put this.. I.. er...

I just preached in a bar in another country. 'Twas about grace and glory and it was a lot of fun!

Chau.

That's twice now

Twice that I've prayed about adopting one of the kids here. Twice that the Lord has taken him to his house within a week after really, seriously, begging God to show me if it's His will, to adopt a kid.

The first was Rodrigo. He was a handful, but over time was becoming a sweet kid. I had told Sarah about my thoughts. That if he were to still be here by the time I was gone, I would see what it would take to bring him home with me.

I know, I know. It's insane. And not just a two word sentence kind of insane, but an all caps and larger font kind of insane.

INSANE.


I know how old I am. I know I'm a single girl. I know that when I return I wouldn't have a job lined up, nor would I have much money. Not to mention that I will be living with my parents.

But something just kept feeling right about the idea. I kept thinking about how these kids need someone that's consistent, even if it's just one side of things. And more importantly, they need God, and He would help me do my very best to show the young man His love. I just know it.

Two weeks after seriously praying about Rodrigo, a family took him in.

My mom had asked while I was home if I was thinking that way about Nahuel these days. It's no secret that while he too had his rough edges, he had been softening. Just yesterday, he gave me some of the sweetest hugs, and he's getting excited to receive his autitos, or Hot Wheels we bought for him and all the boys.

When she said it, I had definitely been thinking about it, but not praying as much. Ever since I got back, Nahuel's face kept popping up in my mind, and so I took things more seriously. 'Okay God,' I said. 'What is it that you want?'

I thought about what the process must be like; about how long it might take; how it would ruin my so-called plans. About how it would still be worth it.

Today, we played cards with some of the boys. Afterward, I asked for a final headcount so that I could best prepare their gifts for the Christmas party next week. They gave me a number that was less than I was thinking. "No Mariano?" I asked.

"Nope. And Nahuel is gone too."

They explained that he's with his family. Now, I don't know if that means just for the holidays. It might be some sort of confusion, but I'm wondering if that's not the case. As in, he's gone for good (double entendre).

So who's the insane one now? The one who is willing to adopt as a single 25 year old, or the ONE who keeps putting kids on my mind to start praying about and then providing a home for them?

Does this mean I should start praying for the one's I'm less inclined to adopt?

I have no clue. Chau!

From Genesis to Revelation

There is a new group of brothers and sister who have been coming to Escuelita each Saturday. I don't know why they started coming so late in the year, but they did, and they seemed to enjoy it. What's crazy, is just when we were giving up on Escuelita, God gave us this gift of kids as if to say, "Keep going."

The Bible memorizing continues, and the sister, Melany, keeps winning. The other brothers have memorized the verses too, but when we go to draw their names from the hat, hers is the one always drawn. What can you do?

I told them that I will be giving away the cereal box I made to look like the Bible, as well as all the leftover goodies inside it to the one who can say the most memory verses next Saturday. Everyone said that they will practice them as best as they can, which is encouraging. I keep thinking about how great it is in general to have these kids want to open their Bibles on their own time, and pray that they'll want to do so more often, not just for the prize.

Melany came up to me afterward though. "I'm going to study real hard. I'll read all the way from Genesis to Revelation," she declared to me.

His Word is sweeter than honey. May these kids realize that, and may the Spirit change their lives by revealing the beautiful nature of our loving and just God. Chau!

Growing up is hard to do

If you read number two of this previous post, you'll get a small glimpse of what it is like to be raised in the midst of poverty. It has a lot to do with not having the money for other forms of entertainment, especially vacationing, as well as the way that poor education can impede creativity.

The kids stay out in the streets all day out of boredom. Or suffocation. So many living in a house, sharing a room, means that home is not a haven, but a havoc.

Yesterday, I made one of the "never-ending" cards with Gabriel. He's one of the most well-behaved, sweetest kids in the group, and he talks often about his family and passions. When we made the card, we asked if he wanted to make it for his mom. He began to write about how much he loves and misses them.

"Even though we are separated, we are always together in our hearts."

I wanted to cry. Imagine living in a home when you know there's someone out there who does want to take care of you. The other day Gabriel walked for six straight hours to visit with his mom.

Then there's Santi of Las Violetas. Another great kid. Unfortunately, many of the others pick on him and call him gay. Just this past week one of his cousins died. The child of 7 or 8 years drowned in the canal that borders the neighborhood, while his dad was there, not paying attention.

How do you explain to Santi that death is a part of life? How do you explain to Gabriel that his mom just economically can't keep him in the house right now?

They have to grow up quick, so to speak, in order to cope with these daunting stressors. It is unjust, to put it simply, that anyone their age should have to deal with these things in the first place. We have had it so good.

Please pray for Santi and Gabriel. Pray for their broken hearts to be filled by the love of Jesus, who hurts and cries with them. The same Jesus who hears the prayers of the downtrodden. Thanks and chau.

Crafty

I have been meaning to update my fellow readers on the various crafts that we've made with the institute boys and young mothers.

They have varied from home-made yo-yos, to table basketball, to what you see on the left. A Javi special Cornball game! I let him do the wood cutting, Betania and Flor to sew the beanbags, and I picked out the paints (and painted... most of it).

It was funny trying to teach the game. They still don't understand the scoring aspect of it, but I hope they enjoy it nonetheless. Makes woodworking another thing I want to add to my list of skills.

To the right, I had watched a Disney show on crafting for this idea. I also knew we had a whole bunch of various colored tissue paper in the back (perks of Operation Lumber Room).

So Flor and I cut away, and had a blast at the mom's institute where the various young'ns made fish or trees or houses--filling up the entire page!!

It's sort of fun preparing a new craft each week, though it can be tiring. If I'm good, I'll utilize my summer to prepare a list of things and buy the materials more than a couple days ahead of time to reduce the stress.

This week: the never-ending card. I watched this YouTube video on how to make it. Simple. Fun. And now funny, because I made each page be part of the conversation between those two vultures in the Jungle Book. Chau!

Distinctions

When you're in between two cultures in a short amount of time, you are able to sense the differences even stronger. Like Daredevil's enhanced sense of everything apart from sight, I sometimes feel the difference just from a whiff of the panaderia, or something like it:

1. Traffic. Wide, usually well lit, lanes in the States. Here, no demarcations to separate lanes. Each car fending for itself. And the cars... in the States, everyone has a nice car. Even your "junker" is probably at least 10 years newer and cleaner than the average car here. Be thankful.

2. Bread. I loved getting to pick what I eat while I was home, and I'm not just talking about getting to pick the restaurant because people were excited to have me home. I'm talking about portion sizes and leaving leftovers. The first thing I'm offered here were criollos, the famous little biscuit given during snack time. I love them so much, I have called them my pecados (Sol always laughs about that one). But I have gone two weeks without them, and I sort of view them as my rabbit hole to engordando. So I had one and stopped. I paused to think about how many things here have bread--a lot of bread--in them.

Such is the life of, as I have previously deemed, second world. Bread and rice, bread and rice. Because these things are cheapest to make a lot of to feed many. I mean, Jesus had fed several thousand on a couple of occasions with it! Again, be thankful for the food you have access to (this includes Asian food!).

3. Air conditioning. We don't have it.

4. Book stores. I have told my fellow reader Flor of the wonders of Barnes and Noble. Even better, the fact that both a B&N and a Half Price are in walking distance to where my parents live. They are places that you can not only (most likely) find the book you are looking for and at a reasonable value, but that you can also have plenty of space WITHIN the store to sit down and read it. For free.

But enough for now. I am enjoying being back, in the summertime, of Cordoba. We had a great little Escuelita this morning, where I was impressed by Javier's handling of some bad behavior by a couple of the boys. We also played this old dice game I used to play at the local skating rink and had a blast with that.

Additionally, in thinking of all of these differences, it is important to try to combine the best of both worlds. Just because it is different, doesn't make it better. Or maybe there is something that is better, but not easily accessible to the rest of the world. Be thankful for what you got, but be okay when you don't have it. From dust to dust any way, right?

Love and chau.

Still true

Whilst awaiting the bus to take me to the plane to take me to another plane to take me to two more planes before landing in Cordoba, over a year ago, a friend asked a simple question.

"What do you think will be hardest for you to adjust to?"

I paused only a moment to say, "I know it's silly. It's really childish, but..

"I'm going to miss soft toilet paper."

She assured me that soft toilet paper still exists, but I knew, in order to be kind to the budget of four missionaries living together, we would have to get the cheap kind. The cheap, sand paper-esque, crumbles before it reaches the water, toilet paper.

Or worse, to realize that you would need to bring your own roll of the cheapo in order to clean yourself at all on long bus trips. If you don't, find yourself forking over another 25 centavos for 6 whole squares of something you never thought could get much worse than the kind that you should have brought.

Certainly other things are hard adjustments. Machismo, if you really wanted to know.

But you know what? When I landed this morning, I had to go to the bathroom. I nearly shouted an "Aleluya!" when I felt the 4-ply in my hand. I may or may not have rubbed my cheek with its fluffy softness, then smelling the hint of aloe vera also laced within.

I assure you that this is not all that important. I have had worse issues when it comes to overseas toilets (ahem.. squatty potty Russia.. ahem). And everytime, the job gets done.

But soft toilet paper, the luxury that it is, still matters to me and that is that.

Bye (since I'm in the e.e.u.u. for now).

Elias - the long of it

I thanked Steph and Joy for listening to my long story today. It was while I told it that I figured I should write it down. So here we go (inhale)...

About a month, month and a half ago, I had a blessed time with a little boy named Elias. I notice that sometimes, the boys in Las Violetas that come for our craft day in el Refugio behave well as long as you pay them special attention. Obviously, you can't always do that, but this week, I was able to. He even finished the craft early, and went on his way, showing everyone the paper bird we had worked on together.

Last week, however, Elias was not the best. It started with hitting a girl, and he continued with bad words. I told him that if he hit the girl or anyone again, he would have to leave for the week. Granted, the girl wasn't helping the situation, and I even had to discipline her at one point, but Elias drew back and slapped her in the face as hard as he could.

He knew what was coming because he immediately fell straight to the floor. I've never literally kicked someone out before, but there I was; using my feet to move him closer to the door.

I closed the gate portion of the door, and he peered inward as if the outside were jail. "Please, PLEASE, just let me come in!" he pleaded.

"Elias," I told him. "I asked you not to hit again, and then you did. You broke one of the few rules we give. You are free to come next week, but for the remainder of the day, you must stay outside."

He pouted.

"Do you understand why?" I asked.

"NO!" he shouted back. "LET ME IN!!!!"

I asked him to read the sign behind him. He told me he couldn't read, and since I honestly don't know if they are joking or not when they say that sort of thing, due to the lack of quality education in the area, I told him that it said "El Refugio."

"And do you know what 'El Refugio' means?" I asked.

He shook his head.

I gave the schpiel about how it's a place of safety. A place where, despite how dangerous it can be outside in the streets, when we come to this house, we choose to leave the danger outside. "Therefore, we don't fight, we don't hit each other, we refrain from bad words. We keep this place safe."

Elias whined a bit more, but eventually left.

On this day, several of the older boys also came in to bother the group that was halfway through their craft. We eventually had to ask them to leave as well, since they were only disrupting the others, and for some, tearing apart the hard work that the others had begun. These boys stayed in the street when Sol and I were closing up shop.

I was very tempted to go up to this group and give them a piece of my Holy Spirit induced mind. I want so badly for them to realize their great potential and how they have a choice to either explore that potential or destroy it. Yet, I held my tongue and walked the other direction. A little discouraged due to the lack of speaking fluidly, I at least practiced my speech in my head as I continued home.

On the way, I saw Elias and his older sister and thought maybe God wanted me to say something to him instead (though maybe He really wanted both). Two people are less intimidating, and so I tried. The words came, miraculously (thank you Lord!), and I was able to share with them again how much I love them and only stand by the rules because I want what's best for them. "You understand?"

They nodded. Elias even said he was sorry. We walked together a bit and he showed me where he lives.

Fast forward to today and Elias was late. Oh but rewind just a bit for a time with Gaston. Gaston is one of those older kids. He made his way toward one of the kids as if to hit him, so I quickly stated, "You hit him, and you will have to leave." Hit. Evil eye from me. Blank stare.

Gaston is the type that tries to use his age and size to break the rules. I did not back down.

After a little bit of arguing, he was out of el Refugio, but waiting at the door. He slowly tried to inch his way in, letting his feet touch the tile floor. "Gaston, all the way out," I explained. Another bit of arguing over details, until he finally was all the way outside. "Fine," he huffed. "I'll just climb the roof." I chose to ignore this part, and surprisingly, he was back at the door a few minutes later. I walked up to him.

"Gaston, two rules was all I gave you. Don't hit, and you hit. Go outside, and you do everything you can to come back in without permission. I want you to come inside and finish your craft. Really, I do. But I have to know that I can trust you. If you can not keep two, easy, simple rules, how do I know you won't do something worse the next time?"

He looked at me.

"I will gladly invite you back in if you can wait another two minutes outside."

He waited, and I invited him back in. In comes Elias, as previously mentioned, late. He is rambunctious, and so I have to give him a warning after a hit number one that he needs to be good.

"If you promise me to be good, I will let you stay. But once you break that promise, I will ask you to leave. Do you promise?"

He nodded, but I wanted to hear it. "Yes or no, Elias." After a minute or two, he finally had the strength to say "Si."

He survived, for awhile. But eventually, threw down the scissors, almost hurting another kid, and out of rebellion to Sol who had already asked him not to do so. Before he acted in this violent manner, even Gaston said, "Elias, be careful or you will be asked to leave!"

"Out!" I shouted, mainly out of disappointment.

Elias instead put himself under the table. I explained as I had similarly done with Gaston about the possibility of coming back in, but first he would have to show obedience by going outside. Nothing. "But I promise to be good from now on!" he moaned.

"You already broke the original promise," I replied.

Still nothing.

So I looked him in the eye and told him that I would talk to his parents if he didn't come out by the count of three. "One..."

Gaston was exasperated. "Just go outside Elias! It'll be okay!"

[smiling on the inside]

"Two..." I pleaded with him some more, and expressed that I wasn't afraid to find his parents (though I actually was*).

"You don't know where I live!" he shouted, but then paused. "Oh wait..."

"Three!" I marched out the door.

Maria Sol later told me that everyone's eyes got really big in that moment, and that when I continued out they all were talking about whether or not I would actually do so.

I'll tell you now that I had my doubts. But Elias' reaction confirmed my every footstep. He was literally racing home so he could talk to his mother before I could. Well, actually.. first he ran to the corner and hid behind it. Waiting to see if I'd actually follow through. After that, he raced onward, and by the time I got to his house, I could hear him explaining to his mom that he didn't do anything wrong, no matter what the teacher was about to say.

I patiently waited outside, making the culturally acceptable hand claps to get the attention of the owners of the house (when there are no doorbells). No one. Clap, clap, clap...

Elias made his way out with a giant smirk. "She's not going to believe you," he coaxed. "I already told her everything."

No response on my end. Clap, clap, clap...

"Doesn't look like she's coming," he smiled some more.

"That's okay, I can wait."

Eyes widened and mouth agape. But to distract himself, he ran off with some other friends.

I decided to shout "Hola," and this got his mom to come out. I explained who I was and what I was doing, and started by saying that I know that Elias is a good kid. "But I had given some basic rules, and everyone knows that when you break those rules you must leave for the day but are welcome to come back the next week." I then continued with how Elias had broken the rules, and she responded, "Ohh... what a liar he is!

"Don't you worry, I'm going to find him now and talk to him."

Even I was scared for Elias, but I thanked her and walked back. Elias' sister asked if she could come (as she was standing nearby) right as Elias walked back. He seemed surprised to see his mother outside too. He shouted at me that he wasn't coming back ever.

"Elias," I sighed. "Don't you know that I want you to come back?! I just want to make sure that you behave well because I know you can. You are a good kid."

He didn't have any words to that.

Back in el Refugio, Sol had a chance to talk to the boys that remained about Jesus. We were making a Christmas themed craft, so she linked it to the purpose of Christmas, and it was relieving to hear them all know the basic story. I had never heard them go that in depth with us before either. Shellshocked.

Elias' brother Lucio was there too. While curious about my conversation with his mom, I told him that it was to be kept between me and her and Elias. He, often a little wild as well, behaved really well for the rest of our time. Gaston too, for the most part.

I was praising Jesus to have this time with those boys before heading back to the States. I continue to pray for consistency and wisdom. I pray that they can know how much we love them. I pray that they can learn to behave well not just for the sake of behaving well, but so that they can become great young men.

Important names of those from el Refugio: Carlos, Gaston, Lucio, Elias, Erik.

Thanks and chau.

*One reason I'm not sure of what to do when it comes to talking to parents, is I don't know how they treat their children for misbehavior. Do they ignore the problem? Do they physically abuse their children? It's a scary prospect at times, but I'll just have to let the Spirit guide these moves.

Catholics - not half bad (wink)

I invited my good friend Noemi to dinner at the OM house this week as she was unable to come for our normal morning tea in the city center. I made a tuna tarta and steamed some broccoli and carrots together and only make note of it because it feels like an accomplishment sometimes when you can cook for others. Oops, too long of a sentence. Here is your chance to breathe.

Encouraging: having a much older woman ask you for advice about the Bible. We talked about all sorts of theological debates; from one-time salvation to the need for confession, to the immeasurable mercy of Jesus. Certainly, I am no expert, it's just fun to be included in these more heady discussions when one feels very young (someone thought I was fourteen today--HA!).

Noemi also made a point to share with me about visiting a friend's church last week where she supported the confirmation of said friend's daughter.

"You would never guess," she said to me. "But at this Catholic church, not once did I hear them pray to Mary, and everything the priest said about the Bible was accurate as far as I could tell."

I smiled, but understood. While I've discussed this fact before, that Cordoba, heck Argentina, isn't all that Catholic, it is interesting to hear about a Protestant background person who still thinks that all Catholics have it wrong. I explained to her as my mom had once explained to me:

"Not all Catholics go to heaven. But certainly not all Protestants go to heaven either!"

If you'd like a Biblical reference to this sort of thing, you can check out Matthew 25:34-46 as well as Matthew 7:21.

She at once agreed, and we continued the discussion. How are you and your feelings about other denominations?

Chau.

I don't know

..how to tell you again and again how much there is to say, and simply too little time to do so.

For one, there's the fact that we were caught off guard yesterday to find that all of those staying at the girls' institute will be leaving this week!! I felt like I was in those T-bone car accidents you see in the movies. I didn't know how to say goodbye. How to hug Gladys and do my final little dance move I've taught Maria Luz these past few weeks. How to hold back the tears when little Tamara hugged me with all of her might.

Add to that, despairing for Maria Luz who does not have a mother who cares for her. She and I were playing, but at one point, she went to Gladys to have her hold her. "Ma-ma.. ma-ma!" she cried. And without a bat of an eye, Gladys did not even turn to her. Sol and I tried to distract the girl, but to no avail. Heartbreaking.

Before hand, I had a good time with Fabrizio, which is a first in several months. He stopped coming with us when we visit the boys' institute. I always made sure to say hello, but in general, he never was much of a talker. Yesterday, Javi had prepared the craft and on top of that we had visitors from Buenos Aires helping, so I stayed in the back to chat with my man Fabri. We talked about video games, and his family (I still remember the first time we met, and talking about his father Diego). I learned he has two brothers and one sister, but he doesn't hear much from them. All in all, lovely to get to focus my time with him.

There's the fact that we've had guests in and out of the house over the past week and a half. Yet another reason you haven't heard from me lately (and perhaps for the best, as I was pretty stressed, and I might've slipped in some complaints!).

The fact that it's already super hot, that while I know it won't be so cold when I go to Texas in less than a week (!), it will still make a whole lot of difference.

I'm reading Leviticus presently, and am thinking of preparing a sermonette about how Argentine asado probably smells a lot like our sins being taken away, while the panaderias are the smell of our guilt offerings. hehe.

I don't know what else to include, because it's all so important, and yet so very much, I couldn't possibly express everything I'm feeling and learning etc. etc. Mas que nada, God is wonderful. I couldn't have asked for a better life! Chau!

Holy Guacamole

It's November.

That means several things. In two weeks, I'm making my way toward the great state of Texas. When I return, I have invites to Rio Negro, Neuquin and another part of Buenos Aires (where I will hopefully get to see a polo match!) for December. I have the end of the world to go to. I am waiting to hear about what summer camp I will be attending (Chaco or the south with the Bs. As. team???) in January. All of the end of the year events to plan--with the boys' and girls' institute, with my teens, with the church...

So I spent the day preparing for this fairly lengthy road ahead by organizing my room and putting away the gifts I've bought the family in one of the suitcases. I still have a few more to buy for, so I need to make time for that.

Oh yeah, and SARAH BRYAN IS ENGAGED!! WOOOOO!!!!

Oh and what? I'm speaking fairly fluent Spanish now? I've had quite a few new friendships formed in these past few weeks where it's not until a couple minutes into the conversation that they realize I'm not from here. Sick!

That is all. A fairly simple post, which had a lot more to it, but I'm simply exhausted. Chau!

Fiesta de la Luz

Missing: Giuliano and the Quinteros clan

The Fiesta de la Luz is like our Fall Festival. A safe alternative for kids in place of Halloween. The irony was that the neighborhood had picked the very same day and the exact hours of our planned fiesta, to cut off all electricity (cut off the light, if you will).

I could see the look of disappointment in the eyes of those who had worked so hard to plan each part of the event. Andrea, in charge of the games, trying to find a solution for how to accommodate for so many children. Eva, who had directed the play, thinking of alternatives for the various features of the play that needed lighting and microphones. Coco, who had baked so many cakes, thinking that no one would come to enjoy them.

I reminded them of what had happened before, during the Día del Niño, when we arrived to our designated location only to find the political parties throwing their own shindig without having asked the neighborhood council's permission like we had. In the moment, we switched plazas, and ended up having even more kids than planned. "God knew what He was doing then, we can assume He knows what He's doing this time too," I told them.

And sure enough, the hour in which the planned light's out time passed. I guess someone must have forgotten!

Mily and I were paired up to lead a game. Within this, was another milagrito, as I call it (translates to little miracle), but that wasn't understood by me until the moment had already passed. Back up. Not only was I in charge of a game, but I had to make the tree for the play as well. Reality strikes yet again at the fact that I would have to make this tree out of scraps/trash as we were working on a budget and that budget was nil. So I collected all the cardboard boxes and green pieces of tissue paper I could find, forked out a mere 2USD for some high quality tape, and had Javi make a scrap-wood stand on which our lovely tree would rest:

Huzzah

...and something you could easily throw away when done.

But all this to say that I also lost time preparing for the game. The game was simple: two kids would need "crowns" and the rest of the kids would need "jewels" to throw into the crowns. The crowns were easy because I would just make some poster board jewel-less drawings of the coronas and then tape them to some ice cream containers that are large enough for the kids' heads. The jewels was the issue. And as is part of my personality that I don't necessarily deem as procrastinating, simply, thinking too long upon the subject/forgetting, I never got around to buying or finding something suitable.

After all, these pelotitas would need to be jewel-esque and small, but not to hard that someone could get hurt.. cheap if I were to buy them.. and actually available. The last one is the most difficult part. The night before, I was still joya-less. My friend asked what I was to do, and I didn't know. Shrugging, I just said I'd figure it out in the morning.

"But it starts at 3pm! What if you don't find them?" she asked. (A valid point when everything closes by 12 or 13 hundred hours.)

"I'll just have to figure something out I suppose."

To be perfectly frank, I wasn't worried about it. If I couldn't find anything in the morning, I would have to be flexible and maybe change up the game or something. Not like we haven't done plenty of that already.

During the night I had a dream where I was talking with my mentor Andrea. It was a conversation we had already had a week before, and she was telling me about a woman who gave her husband an entire bag full of necklaces. My dream then fast-forwarded to the part where my very hand was holding this bag and putting it up with the costume jewelry that we have in the back, but not realizing what was inside.

I woke up remembering that I could probably just take those necklaces, cut them apart, and use those as "jewels." When I went to the back, it was actually a bag of assorted beads of the very jewel-esque quality I was aiming for, that were to be used to make necklaces. I came back into the house where my friend was sitting and asked me what had happened. She was in awe of how simple it all was.

The most important part of the day however, was when two strange cars parked by the plaza. OUR BOYS FROM THE INSTITUTE GOT TO COME!!! Sergio, Gabriel, Matias, Rodrigo and Nico all came piling out and I got to give them a big hug to welcome them! They played very well with the rest of the kids, and I was extra surprised by Matias' behavior--much better than normal.

Any way, another great event in which all of the church had come together to serve. Perhaps another of the highLIGHTS of the day. Chau!

Como se dan los chistes

So I went to the local ferreteria.. that is, the hardware store.. I needed some sticks for hanging curtains as they are literally called, as well as some tape. I forgot the tape, but thankfully the walk is short. Additionally, I needed what is called a factura so that I could justify spending OM's money for some ministry needs, and they didn't have one at the time. A second trip was necessary is what I'm trying to say.

They asked me where I lived, and didn't think I was a foreigner at first (woohoo! an extra point for me somewhere, right?), because their intention was to drop the factura off personally. I said it was fine for me to come back, as I have a lot of walking around the area to do any way. So I came by, and they forgot to print the official receipt. Pero lo que me llamo atencion fue como ya sabian mi nombre! But what most grabbed my attention was that by my second visit they already knew my name. Well, my middle name, but that's besides the point.

So I would have to come for a third visit, but this time mate was promised, so it wasn't so bad for me. hehe

When I arrived, the dueno of the hardware store was ready with mate in hand and a little joke to share on the side. Unfortunately, I didn't understand the joke so well, but when they explained it after, it was pretty good*.

--------------

A little later I had a flat tire, so off to the Bicicleteria it was! The man remembered me from when I had first come to fix another bike, and so he gave a nice hello. "I just need some air," I told him.

He asked if I needed regular air or the more expensive kind.

Unsure if I was hearing him correctly, I looked to Javi waiting outside with the, "I-may-need-your-help-after-all" look, but in time the man said, "Oh! I am only kidding!"

This time I was ready to respond: "Look, you can't just go throwing jokes at innocent little foreigners you know!"

We laughed together and I was on my way.

--------------

Noemi and I met for tea at our usual locale, where the waiter often doesn't even ask anymore what we would like to have. One tea with no sugar, one coffee with a small water on the side. This time however, Noemi had ordered some mini croissants because she had skipped breakfast.

After one bite, she stopped, as they were stale. A new English word for her. We called the waiter over and explained that maybe they did not come from a fresh batch, as they were a little dry.

"Okay," he said. "I'll go add a little water to them." Again, all in good fun.

I guess it's the season for joking, as all of these have happened in the last couple of days. Or maybe I'm just understanding a lot better. Or maybe it's a cultural thing. I would definitely say Argentina is on the sarcastic side. Chau chau!


*Since then, I've shared the joke with a couple of Argentines. They too, need help understanding the joke.

When you lay down the law

..sometimes, some really great things happen.

While some wanted to play soccer again, I looked up at the sky and saw some ominous clouds. And even though it didn't end up raining, I came prepared with two styrofoam cups, two pieces of cardboard squares, two sticks of about 5 inches in length, a ping pong ball and some tape.

Javi looked at me with skepticism. But we mounted our bikes (Rosita!!!) and took off. We arrived to a full house: the new Rodrigo*, Nico, Nahuel, Sergio, Matias, Fabrizio and Mariano. However, menos mal, digamos, Fabri and Mariano stayed in the back to play cards with Claudio. Bueno, the rest of us put together our own miniature basketball court on a table and played two v. two.

I let the kids make their own goal. I gave them the basic idea, but wanted them to problem solve on their own and discover their own capabilities. As well as waste some time. Then I told them that there are some important rules, and that if they broke them there were one of two results: a loss of a turn the disarming of all of our precious work because we would be done for the day.

Wow! They loved it! And while only four could play at a time, they paid special attention to everyone that was playing. A first. Matias was, well, the normal difficult Matias that he is, but the only one who really did any wrong. Then there was Nahuel who stole my heart again by cheering for everyone, and picking me to be on his team. He even wanted me to sit with him while we waited our turn again. In general, everyone was shouting in excitement, "So close!!!", "GOAL!!", etc. etc.

Sergio, I must say, is also a personal favorite. I know, it's a dangerous rode to love them too much when I have no idea how long they are staying, nor will I be here forever, but I think it's worth the risk. There's probably some poetic saying about that somewhere ;). Any way, I say this about Sergio because I had made a game for him not too long ago, and he made a point to say that he really enjoyed it. I had missed his birthday last week, so I told him I was sorry, but he gave me a huge hug and promised it was okay. Que tierno!

On another note, I feel like I'm thinking about these stories in Spanish so much, that it affects my English sentence structure. Oh well, asi es la vida a veces. More than anything, I was encouraged by todays' game time with the boys.

As for the girls, yesterday we made wind chimes. I'm wanting to say "from scratch," but that's not the right term. I'll explain later. Chau for now!

*Rodrigo. Some of you may remember Rodrigo dos. As of Monday, he escaped the institute and we still don't know where he is. Please be in prayer for his safety and that he is able to find a place as well as a good family with whom he can stay. Or something. I don't know what to pray in an instance such as this, really.

The new Rodrigo comes with brother Nico and is one of five. All of his brothers and mother came to visit on Tuesday while we played soccer with them. I'm not sure of the whole situation, but I was told they were dropped off last Wednesday at the house and were left confused and crying.

Hear no evil, see no evil

Javi preached yesterday evening about the things we see and hear--how we ought to be cognizant of that which enters our brain and more careful of what we allow in. Unfortunately, my rebellious self only wanted to listen to "Moves Like Jagger" by Maroon 5 and get my dance on. But it lead to another revelation: an observation of the teenagers from these past two weeks in Mina Clavero.

We had a dance party one night for the first group from Neuquin. It was limited to only 6 songs, and everyone (per usual) was surprised by my grand affinity for dance. Good story, I know. What I'm wanting to say is the teens who stayed to dance were "sin verguenza" as is said. Sarah had to literally get in the middle of a boy and girl making out. I had caught the guy make his way toward girl, and was in such shock of this 16 year old making such a beeline. I was pointing, mouth wide, but frozen; letting Sarah do the dirty work.

I had a conversation with Marisol before this second wave of camps. We were talking about the disco traps, and how bored teenagers pre-game and go dancing all night long. Not that it's such a cultural shock, as such action is pretty universal. But I had never really thought about it much before. Bored students equals the likelihood to explore some pretty life-threatening things. Yes, it's as simple as that.

The thief comes to kill, steal and destroy and it can start with one poisoned drink. I say that with a story in mind, as well as the countless pregnant teenagers I've seen since being here as evidence.

Needless to say, I was a little thankful we didn't have a dance party with the second group which already included three pretty touchy-feely couples (definitely a cultural distinction this PDA thing).

As for what we see, I've been thinking about the boys' institute. Several times we've hung out in the back room of the facility which has a few old computers on which the boys play basic computer games.

The desktop of the best working computer includes several pictures of a half naked woman. Betania, the brave one, asked why that was their background, and they shrugged, though looked at each other in such a way that suggested they knew why it was up. Through various other forms of question and encouragement, they finally changed it.

The list goes on (as always), but now it's time to run a few more errands for the day.

How many..

How many OMers does it take to screw in a light bulb?

Okay, actually it's changing a light completely, and it might have all started from a mistake of mine. I bought the wrong size bulb. Which led me to look for an alternative light fixture, which I found in the back.

Which is also the wrong size for the hole that we have.

But I read the instructions and watched a YouTube video. Turned off the electricity and was prepared to do all the work, when I got confused by the wiring. When you give a mouse a cookie...

So I called for back up: Javi and Adam.

The moment was hilarious for two, maybe three reasons.

First of all, Adam is still learning Spanish, and Javi is still learning English, so most of the communication was very caveman-like: grunts. "Si!" more grunts. "No!" hehe

Then there was the sharing of the culture and the various "changing of the light bulb" jokes that those from the US use.

And finally, before calling it a night, we went to flip on the light only to find it not screwed in all the way. After a couple more grunts, Javi just said we'd figure it out tomorrow.

Fruit salad

First, there's new vocabulary:

1. Que te iba a decir...? "What was I going to tell you?" I never realized how often I heard this phrase until after I started using it too. It's a great way to let people know you have something to say and they'll give you a minute to think. Normally, conversation moves so quickly, it's hard for us extranjeras.

2. Tengo mis pilas: "I'm all set and energized." Literally, I have my batteries.

3. Ensalada de fruta. Okay, actually, not new vocabulary, and for those of you non-Spanish speakers, I'm assuming you can translate this. Imagine me, hair down, curly (or wavy if you prefer) as it is naturally. My friend's mom tells me, "Wow! Sharayah, I love your hair! It looks like a fruit salad!"

Me: Umm.. what?

Friend: Yeah mom, what do you mean by that?

F's mom: You know.. it's so.. so...

[all laugh]

Exactly. Que se yo?

Then there's the fact that I went to a Cordoba Immersions camp again this past week and had a blast. I'm scheduled again for next week too, and it's a delight to know I'll continue working with teenagers. My favorite memory this time is teaching the kids ultimate frisbee. Naturally, the boys got into it, and one boy, Facu, was particularly excited. When I passed to him (one in which he would have to continue his sprint to catch the frisbee), he forgot about a bush in the way and completely collapsed. I was embarrassed for him, but he shook it off, and scored two minutes later. Then I was proud, because it's not every day you see a teenage boy able to keep going after a moment like that. Way to go Facu!

The second best moment was picking a name for our team. We were given the color yellow, so the students thought of the only things they knew in English that was yellow: Sunshine and lemons. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, our team name was the Sunshine Lemons. hehe

Last, but certainly not least, today is Mother's day in Argentina. Therefore (asi que, quise a escribir), I would like to give a shout out to one of the best mom's in the world....

I know you can't see her face, but this is from Puerto Madryn where she was building a sandcastle and a bunch of little kids were impressed (as seen) and joined her. I love her kind spirit, her willingness to be a friend to just about anybody, and the way she encourages me in her daily prayers for me and others.

Thanks for everything mom! I love you very much!

Things I didn't know existed

It's called Cerro de los Siete Colores and it's located in Purmamarca, Jujuy, Argentina. We visited after camp (which I know.. I still haven't written about) as Andrea used the excuse, "We're only making a stop because Sharayah said she wanted Artesan gifts for her family." Haha. I'm pretty sure she bought more than me.

Any way, the idea is that these mountains vary from being bright red to bright green, and then there are all these crazy levels of other colors as well.

Not to mention that they come in all sorts of shapes as well. Love it how the sun hit just one spot on this one!

It was so beautiful, I kept taking pictures and saying, "Okay, I'm just going to enjoy the rest of what I get to see."

Two seconds later, my camera was out again!

Yep. Once again at a loss for words. If I get a chance to go back, I'm taking it, because wow. Simply, wow...

The creativity I'm looking for

Josh Crain had once preached about what "turning the other cheek" really means, and it has stuck with me ever since. I've been on the lookout for opportunities in my own life--particularly with a kid named Ivan--to think of unique ways to address violence in our world. As the ironic saying goes, to kill 'em with kindness.

Let me admit that I'm not very good at it.

Thankfully I did have a good hour with Ivan this week, as we talked and prayed. Mind you, the prayers were about ten seconds long and about weird things like being thankful for food we hadn't yet eaten, or about not getting hit by a soccer ball, but I suppose a prayer is a prayer...

Any way, I was encouraged by this story in which 120 mimes overtake the streets in Venezuela to deal with the heavy traffic issues. It's adorable; it's uplifting; it makes me want to laugh.

I want more of this. It's how I want to react to injustice. Lord, please help me! Ok thanks and chau!

Just a little note

I have to admit I'm a little embarrassed to share this story, but here it is.

Remember the story I told about my gym trainer? I was compelled to write her a card before my trip to Jujuy to let her know I was praying for her. I told her how I could relate, and I also thanked her for her help to get rid of my extra missionary pounds (haha). While I wanted to give it to her personally, due to schedule conflicts, I had Flor pass it on as she lives just next door to the gym.

When I came in this morning, I was running late due to taking out the trash and taking down my clothes from the line. I joined the group waiting for Ceci to come in and lead us in step (which was pretty killer by the way). When she walked in the room, she beelined to me, gave me a huge hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" she exclaimed and then moved on to the class.

I could see a difference in her composure, but focused on not tripping up on the step :P

Near the end of the class, she announced it in front of everyone. That's the main part of my embarrassment, but I guess it was cool to know that my (most likely poorly written) letter to her made a difference.

"Chicas!" she shouted. "You have no idea what Sharayah gave me last week. Better than any cookie or pie that I've received before!"

Everyone looked at me, and I just sheeply smiled. She told everyone how it made her cry. "I loved it!"

One note. One message to let someone know you care can make all the difference. Who can you write to today? Chau!

How Nahuel stole my heart (again)

Last year when I first met Nahuel in the boys' institute, I found a chiquitito.. a flaquito.. a little kid who was innocent and adorable. Over the year, he has grown, both in height and width, and has been negatively affected by the older kids of the institute in terms of attitude. I don't blame him. When you're constantly surrounded by those who also suffer from lack of familial love, what do you do but survive?

The good news is he has an interest in basketball, as I think I explained in an earlier post. So when we arrived yesterday morning to the institute, he greeted us with ball in hand. Another, Matias, came up to me, "Show my grandmother how to spin the basketball on your finger!" hehe. His grandmother, completely equal in face and build, visits every Tuesday morning.

Many of us left for the local basketball court. More than usual, and it made me give thanks for the many volunteers we've had recently. Flor, Betania, Javi, Adam and I. That means we can, or at least try, to keep more kids under control. It's still hard. Hard to watch the ups and downs that can happen within seconds for each one.

On our way over, I chatted with Nahuel and showed him some more techniques on how to dribble. I showed him how it's important to look up while dribbling, and we practiced a few drills along the empty streets. He was a little flaky when it came to playing the game with us, although I also must say it's hard for me to stay focused when half the time it's the uphill battle of making sure no one fights each other/runs away/says bad words/remains a ball hog/defies all basketball rules/has no patience for the less-basketball inclined... need I go on?

When Nahuel did play, he incorporated his new dribbling skills--even going behind the back a few times! I was so proud! At the same time, he passed to poor Matias too hard (and on purpose), which caused Matias' nose to bleed. He looked at me afterward with shame.

At the end of our time, I waited for each one to pass the entrance of the boys' home. I had arrived earlier than everyone else, because I was talking with Gabriel.. more on that later. To each boy, I explained for what reason I was proud of them, and then encouraged them in the areas that I didn't like and handed them their cookie. When Nahuel's turn came, I spoke highly of his improving athletic skills. He smiled.

"But you know what I didn't like?" I asked.

He looked down, but then back up. "When I threw the ball at Matias' face."

I agreed, and said that it would also be nice if he cleaned up his vocabulary a little.

"I don't want to do it again," he said as I gave him the prize for the week and then our parting hug.

I don't want to. What a confession. There are plenty of things that I don't want to do, and I still do them. Sounds very Romans 7 like. Once again, proof of our need for grace. So I suppose I'll tell the story about Gabriel here too..

Gabriel has a Ginoboli jersey, and he anxiously put it on when we leave to play a little bball. I didn't get much time with him on the way over, but on the way back I was able to ask him more about what his family is like and why he is living in the institute. He has 7 brothers and sisters, ranging from 4 and 5 years old to the mid-20s. He loves sports, and also has learned to play several instruments.

Unfortunately, there was an argument between two of his older siblings and he had to come here. Obviously it's unclear on the details, because he's also too young to understand everything that could be going on. But the part that got me most is now he's not able to practice the instruments he's come to learn. He has a guitar still, but it's not the best quality. I can't imagine what it's like to keep such a thing secure amongst all the others as well. But I digress...

I asked him if he believes in God. Where that question came from, I'm still not sure, but he responded with a yes so I came back with a "Why?"

"I'm Catholic," he said.

I took a moment to internally pray for what to say next and this came out, "So what does that mean?" Pause. "Why believe in God? What did he do for you?"

"He gave me a family," Gabriel responded.

Good answer. "What else?"

Shrug.

"Would it be okay if I shared with you what God did for me?" I asked.

"Sure."

I can't believe how the story of my cousin and all that God did through that history came tumbling out of my mouth. I tried to explain how I learned that God had given me a loving family too, but more than that is he has saved me from death and/or the fear of it.

"You see, I could say that I'm a Christian because I'm Evangelical," I explained. "But I don't think it works that way. I think it takes believing in what Jesus did for us. And while my cousin was innocent when she was murdered, Jesus lived a longer life and was innocent. That's incredible, don't you think?"

He agreed as we were arriving at the institute. I thanked him for letting me share and I asked if we could continue the conversation in the weeks to come, Lord willing we receive those weeks. Overall, it was cool to be able to say all that was said. I pray for more valor.. more courage to press on!

Chau!

That which I still don't understand

I have a mountain of work ahead of me before I take off for Jujuy again, but I think it's important to take a load off.. watch a little Battlestar.. and write here about what's been happening and where I'm going.

First, we arrived at the girls' institute yesterday to find a whole family staying with Gladys. I could see the stress in her eyes, but ironically, she was still more than happy to play hide-and-go-seek (called Escondidas) with the various children that were there. So we finished our craft of the day, painting little animals made of wood and gluing them to bobby pins, and headed outdoors!

Part one of that which I don't get--the way they play the game. Instead of looking for someone, tagging them, and thus passing on the grueling task of counting for everyone to go hide again, the rule is that once you see someone, you have to race that person back to the wall at which you counted. If you tag the wall before they do, they've been caught, but you still have to search for the others. Oh, and you're supposed to shout something too... "Pica!" or "Piedra libre!" and maybe their name too. I just shout all three and run. haha.

When you find the other people, the same rules apply. The final person to get caught, if that's what you even call it, has to count for the next round. So in a way, it's better to be found first, given that the others will be "caught" as well.

The director told me that Gladys loves this game, and again I was reminded of her childlike character. It's really quite adorable.

Before all this, there was the visit to the boys' institute where we played basketball. Nahuel was playing alone at first, and he didn't seem interested in doing our craft. Key to ministry is always to be flexible, so we played a little bball instead. [Smile]

My inner Upward Basketball coach came out, and I taught him the proper way to shoot, and a few dribbling tricks. When I showed him the spider, the most priceless look of amazement shown through his silver dollar eyes. "Your turn," I said, as I passed him the ball.

He looked at me, then the ball, below his legs, and said, "Javi?"

HAHAHAHA

When I say I'm from Texas, a few will mention the Dallas Spurs. I first correct them, and then add, "Yes, in San Antonio you have an Argentine representative in Ginobili... No, I don't know him personally."

And yet, whenever I've played basketball with fellow Argentines, they don't know the first thing about the rule of double dribbling. Their shooting is atrocious. And most of the guys are major ball hogs. Oh, well, I guess that's universal ;).

Encima de todo, I'm going to Jujuy tomorrow through Monday. We (Raul, Andrea and I) will be venturing to the same church we had visited during Holy Week to lead a weekend camp for teenagers. I don't know how many will be coming; I don't know how often messages will be given; I doubt if I'll have internet connection to update. I do know that I'm in charge of the games, and will be giving a personal testimony. The theme is "Holiness and Addictions." Prayers, as always, welcome!

Chau.

The way things are, pt. 2

"At the end of our time together, I have a surprise for you," shouted Cecilia, my gym trainer, over the blaring music that kept our rhythm for the step class.

Many were eager for the news, but I'll admit that I was nervous. In the middle of one of our series, I noticed her pick up the phone and completely stop the lead. We continued, as obedient alums, but the change in her expression was duly noted. She slowly got back into rhythm and gave us another calorie-burning challenge.

"And the surprise?" one asked with enthusiasm, at the end of the hour.

"Chicas," she started. "My daughter, who is 17 years old, is pregnant."

I didn't respond, but observed the response from the crowd.

"Oh, that's great!"

"Three grandchildren in one year!"

"Well, just remember, God will give us the strength we need to get through it."

She mentioned that she has two students of the gym who are 19 years old with two kids, and they told her that they are "re-contentas" or very happy. "So that gave me hope."

But you can tell that she was still a bit upset. Yes, she'll look on the bright side, and I felt like I was looking at Maria Elena again from earlier this year when she had heard the news that her older son's (Ezequiel) girlfriend was pregnant.

On my walk back home from the gym, I thought about the many pregnant people I've been seeing lately. I thought of how many of the mothers I see in general are still in their teens. On one hand, it's nice to have children young, because then your body is flexible enough to play all the games with your kids. On another hand, it's nice when you can plan a little bit to make sure your child grows up in a healthy atmosphere; two married parents, a good home, a good school, etc. etc.

I was telling someone the other day how if I were to approach Russia with a workshop about how to better it's community, I would start with the statistic about how many men die young due to alcoholism, and thus target that issue. Here, I think Argentina needs to face the issue of pre-marital sex, and how in the end, the kids suffer the most.

Sure, robbery and teenage pregnancy are "the way things are" around here, but that doesn't mean that it was the way God intended.

Chau.

Gladys

While I have a moment, I thought I might express the un-expressed from earlier.

You saw the picture of Gladys and I with our cat masks that we made last week. It was a beautiful Friday morning--the one we've added to the already busy schedule--and the necessary one in order to spend more time with the one and only mother in the teenage girls' institute.

She's "descapaz" which translates mentally slow. I don't mean this in a negative way toward her; I'm actually quite certain it has everything to do with the abuse she received from an older man in her home village. The reason she is in the institute to begin with. The reason that she treats her daughter Maria Luz more like a sister than a daughter, because Gladys is still needing and wanting the attention.

The reason that at 17, she is unable to read, and barely able to write.

I have had a full year with Gladys by this point and our friendship has been a roller coaster. Never has it been something where she's been mean towards me or the others, but she has often been distant as she was less forthcoming when the house was full. Now that we've had more focused time with her, she is all the more excited to receive us when we come both on Tuesdays and Fridays.

Last Friday, we had one of the better days with her. I was impressed, for instance, with her first time to make the craft of the day for her daughter as well. Maria Luz was entranced by my pink mask that I had made as an example, and wore atop my head during the time. So Gladys, always eager to make an extra craft for the other workers, decided this time to make one for Luz. I took pictures to remember the event. Printed the one in the previous post for myself, and the rest for Gladys for today. But before I get to today...

We met this Tuesday, and I came very close to retracting all of my positive feelings. It was like Gladys was a completely different person! She was pushing her daughter around, not helping make the torta that we brought to work on together, and saying bad words. I was confused and saddened, praying to God for the reason.

Then she explained how one of the former residents had made a recent visit and I connected the dots. This former resident also happens to be one of the worst of the bunch, and her influence was and is very strong on the others.

For as soon as I stepped inside of the institute today, Gladys was the one with whom I had grown accustom again. Miraculous.

I ended up coming alone this time. An intimidating first. I was nervous, but had a few moments to pray before Gladys came in. We played some Juegos de Mesa--Jenga, Memory and a couple puzzles. I made the Memory game from poster board, using pictures and words so she could practice reading. I noticed how she would guess based on the picture what was spelled, but by the end of the game she knew what each one said.

She asked if she could keep the game, and I asked if I could add more cards and give them to her next week. She agreed.

Additionally, I got to ask about what she remembered of our stories about Jesus that we have been sharing. She talked about how God punishes us for our sins. I got to explain that God placed the ultimate punishment on Christ. That through Jesus, instead of punishment we actually get grace--

Here's the thing. There are always these moments. We get to the core of something and get interrupted. It can be frustrating. It can also be exhilarating because it means we're doing something right and someone (with a lowercase s) wants to get in our way. To that I say John 16:33. Lord help us in this work, especially with the prospect of these institutes shutting down!

Prayers appreciated. Chau for now.

Honesty

I'm going to take a moment and make this real. This place is tiring.

The craziest part is I still enjoy it. Yesterday was a blast for instance. Going to the gym first thing, going to Flor's for mate and having an encouraging heart to heart. Then lunch with the Rodriguez family, and walking with Sol to visit the teens in order to give them a special invite for this Friday and Saturday. Then Sol, Flor and I all went to a "Welcome Spring" event called Desinvernopolis (shedding off winter) where we met up with Johnny, Giuliano and Inti (as well as a few others) and played ping pong, foosball, and the personal favorite--soccer on a mini inflatable field. I told them I think I laughed more than I was able to play. Even typing this puts a smile to my face.

Then to end the night with pizza and ice cream with the newbie and the girls. Classic.

But then to have to wake up early only to find out something was cancelled, when you get there. Or the fact that you can't find a place that's selling the tokens you need to ride the bus. Or that almost all the restaurants don't take credit card. The movie theater continues to show the B level movies (and what's up with showing Top Gun again??!!). To be overcharged when you use the internet cabana, as they're called, but are too mentally exhausted to fight it.

I went home and napped for two hours. Sometimes the most spiritual thing I can do after all, no? hmm..

Okay. It was nice to get some of that off my chest. Moving on..

When my Spanish tutor didn't show, I was thankful to have brought Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion. Ended up reading the whole thing with the extra time on my hands. I was convicted of the treatment of Miss Eliza and thought much about my treatment of some of the boys and teenagers that we visit.

Sometimes I am much more interested in behavior management than who they are. I am in desperate need of showing (and learning how to show) more grace and love to them. I look at one of our more recent helpers, Betania, and how well she is able to connect with Ivan. Sure, on one hand, she has a gifting for kids that I do not have, but are we not called to desire the other gifts.

And when the greatest of these is love??

While I doubt this was Shaw's aim with his play, I am definitely ready to be more like Colonel Pickering, who saw the duchess in the flower girl (or as Five Iron might put it, to see the flower in these weeds).

Chau.

Two urgent prayer requests

1.) As some of you may have read, Cordoba is prone to robbery. Just this Sunday, as I was returning from Cerro Colorado, someone stole the motorcycle of an attendee of our church--parked in front of our house/church. This attendee just so happened to be visiting for the first time. To add to the trouble, she was invited by a recent convert who is currently being discipled by one of our teammates.

The family of this first-timer is upset with our friend Vanessa, who invited her friend.

Please pray for understanding from the family; for Vanessa to have peace about the situation; for the motorcycle to be recovered.

2.) Maria Sol teaches the 5 and 6 year olds during Escuelita held each Saturday in Las Violetas. This past week, a few of them were laughing about some of the movies that their parents watch. When Sol asked for more information, she found out that they are adult movies, and that the parents do not hinder their children from catching a glimpse.

As a result, the children play games where they challenge the girls to kiss one another. As one confessed to playing, the rest admitted to it as well.

Pray for this disgusting habit to be confronted amongst the parents; for the childrens' eyes to be protected; for the higher standard of love to be shown and followed amongst the families in Las Violetas.

Thank you and chau.

An important picture

Gladys and "Sorasha"

I'll explain later, but for now I present to you Gladys--someone who is easily becoming one of my favorites.

Meet Marcos

Marcos is not a believer. And while he knows that I'm a missionary, and pretty adamant about loving Jesus, he still invites me over for some warm milk and music. He loves music (very good at piano and guitar). And the Simpsons. The talking point that led us to hang out in the first place.

Then again, we don't hang out all that often, but it's fun when we do. We play poker and I beat him. We chat about how to get over a broken heart, as he has most recently lost his girlfriend of a year and a half.

My heart breaks for him every now and then, as he makes minute comments that lead me to believe he's really hurting over his parents' separation. For this reason, more than anything else, it's hard to have many deep conversations in the first place. He's avoiding. He's hiding.

It's hard to watch him leave after our hang out times to go smoke weed with his friends.

Join me in prayer for my friend. Pray that I might have the words--to have the right questions ready so we could get to the heart of the matter. That he may grow into a mature young man who loves Jesus too.

Chau.

Boys' institute

It is a constant battle to help these young men mature. We aren't in Argentina to watch them cause trouble; we aren't visiting these homes to pass the time. But with all of the--for lack of a better term--crap that their pasts hold, how? How do we encourage?

It's not like visiting a middle class kid with two parents and his own room. These boys share their places of sleep (intentional euphemism) with up to four others. Some of them don't have pens and pencils of their own. They are malnourished because the food they are served is mainly junk. They have deflated soccer balls, and no pump. A travesty in any Latin American culture.

Nonetheless, I can not help but see great potential in every single kid. One in particular, is Rodrigo dos. Although Rodrigo uno has long been gone, this one is still number two to me. As of late, he has become the alpha male, so to speak, as his older brother and former leader Franco has been taken to another home in Cosquin. Rodrigo has easily filled his brother's shoes, and all of the remaining kids have followed his lead whether consciously or sub-consciously.

I work hard to get him to come play soccer with us, and when he gets there, it is a chore to make him stop playing with the cell phone that doesn't even make phone calls. When we play, he is full of bad words. We have moments of laughter, and even hugs after goals. But he's more aggressive than the rest, and even hits the others, joking afterwards that it was all in fun.

Then we come to the point of passing out the "premios," the rewards for good behavior. Sergio easily gets one because he played even though he didn't want to. Mariano gets one for acting his age (the eldest at 14). I hold back with Rodrigo. "Why?" I ask. "Why do you get one?"

"Because I played," he responds.

I explain all the other points that discouraged me--the bad words, the fighting attitude.

"All the others said bad words too, and they get a prize!" he whines.

Did I mention that when I went to ask him to stop playing on the cell phone, he had looked at me and started yelling, "Sh**! Sh**! Sh**!"? Yes. In English.

Sarah and I said that his whole aura changes when he smiles.

"I hear them more from you," I explain. Even in my head, I know that's a weak argument. Then somehow, this next soliloquy escapes my lips.

"Sabés por qué? Realmente, es porque yo sé que sos mejor que eso. Que en realidad, sos un líder. Tienes una potencial más grande lo que podes ver. Y para mi, porque veo esta posibilidad, tengo un standard más alto para ti. Yo quiero lo mejor, ves? Es una problema poner este standard para tu vida?"

He looked at me for a few seconds and said no. It's not a problem.

(Translation: Do you know why? Because truly, I know that you are better than this. That in reality, you are a leader. You have a potential greater than you can see. And for me, because I see this possibility, I have a higher standard for you. I want what's best for you, you see? Is it a problem to put this standard in your life?)

The ability for these kids to switch is incredible to me. There are times when they are so cruel to each other, but within minutes you see them giving a sincere hug to one of our volunteers. Within minutes, Rodrigo had thrown the premio that I did give him to the ground, had said he was sorry for all he had done, had eaten another premio that I had given (I gave everyone two, because they were smaller than before), and had begun chatting with the other volunteers with us.

He includes me often in his questions--sometimes he makes fun of me, sometimes he is serious. I am often guessing what comes next. Part of the work too, is distracting him with questions of my own, in order to keep him from bothering the other kids.

I took Sergio home early because he had a theater class of some sort to go to. I passed the pen that Javi had decorated with thread for Matias to one of the teachers. Ivan came home without having to be dragged. Mariano and I talked a little about his family in Rio Primero. I recall the funny conversation Nahuel and I had the day before about how much we've "engoradados" in this year alone. I still blame the empanadas--haha. I think much about Chechu who has been moved to another home in Rio Cuarto.

Am I discouraged when the boys don't show the same excitement to see me as when they see Javi? Sometimes. I know there's a part of them in great need of a father figure in their lives, so I gladly pass that baton. I was greatly relieved to have this moment with Rodrigo though: to help him know that I have nothing but high hopes for him. I regret that it was in front of the other boys because I don't want them to think I only think this way for him.

I've been better at telling them that I love them, but it still doesn't feel like enough.

[Sigh]. This is hard work. There are days when I feel like I haven't put in many hours. But the hours that do pass seem like a lifetime. God has taught me a lot. I've reached such a higher level of Spanish than I imagined possible, and I've seen changes in my attitude as well. Sometimes it's not just about these boys maturing, but my growth as well.

Hmm.. wrote much more than I planned, and in a lot of ways, I've just skinned the surface.

Chau.