Una Mezcla de Todo

It was 92 degrees (34) INSIDE work on Friday. That was the last day I worked. It seems like this is a HUGE time off work, but it's really only 3 days! Relaxing thhough.

I've had a good weekend. I did a lot of nothingness on saturday, but sometimes you just need nothingness. I rather enjoyed it. Yesterday I went back to Iglesia de Cristo... finally!! It had been 3 weeks since I last went, because of Mother's Day, then they went to church in Newberg, then it was my church's celebration Sunday for end-of-40-days-of-purpose. Then next week is Iglesia de Cristo's family retreat. I could technically go, since I don't have to work on saturday, but I decided not to. I like that church. They are cool. There was another gringo, or I guess I should say "huerro" because that's what the Mexicans call us gringos! I don't know where the other guy came from, but I think he speaks spanish pretty well.

Last week Marlia was here. We talked a lot about her upcoming trip to Honduras, I want to go back so bad... right now. Este MERO minuto! But I'll just have to wait until Christmas... when I can hopefully have a few weeks there and go see Elsy & Carolina in El Salvador, and go to Roatan with my Germania friends. Marlia's team leaves (for Tegus) on the 14th of June!

So today I will go to my annual family reunion. I didn't think I'd be going to another one for a long long time because I'd be in Mexico, but here I am! ha!

Anyhow, that's it for now!

Hi Marlia!!


Marlia and me

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I can't even put a title on this one.

I just got home from the officially most depressing funeral I've ever been to. I've only been to maybe 5 funerals before. 3 of them were for Christian people, and two of those were old Christian people who were happy to be going home. The other 2 were my grandma and uncle, they at least had some symbolance of Christianity in their catholic rosaries and funerals. My uncle's funeral was hard for me because I saw how much the people thought that they were all going to heaven because they did all the good catholic things, even though they didn't have a relationship with the Lord.

But today, I went to a funeral for a 21 year old boy who was shot by an angry man. Justin used to work with me at the pizza place. Did I always enjoy working with him? No. But he was nice to me. His life wasn't the picture of perfection by any means. In fact, I don't think I realized that there were really people who lived the life of the typical super-dysfunctional family shown on COPS or CSI or other shows like that. Well, there really are people like that, and Justin was one of those people. I don't know how he was so smilely all the time. I guess drugs help a lot with that as long as you keep taking them. One time, Justin randomly told me, "I wanna get baptized." I was like, "huh??" He said that he wanted to get baptized so he'd go to heaven when he died. I told him that getting baptized won't get you to heaven. That you have to live for the Lord. He didn't like that idea, and decided to talk to pastor Colin about just baptizing him anyway. (He lived right next to my church). I don't think he ever did. I left for college the next week, and never saw him again.

Justin's family was very distraught. His relatives were yelling at Colin when I entered the church before the funeral. I don't think there was a reason for that, just that they don't know how to react to this death. How do you react to a sudden death from an act of violence when the victim is not going to heaven? Well, there was no pretending that we're all going to see Justin in heaven after we die like there was at my catholic relatives' funerals. Just that he's gone and everyone was crying. His friends who used to come in high to the pizza place were bawling.

2 people younger than me died suddenly through acts of violence in the last couple months. Laurie was an amazing Christian young lady who acted on a terribly misguided thought that she shouldn't live anymore. Justin was a fighter and was going to duke it out with his friend's dad, but the dad didn't play fair - he brought a gun and didn't give Justin a fighting chance. The two young people couldn't be more different. Laurie - an example to many in their walk with the Lord, she was from a good family (well, every family has some problems) with parents and siblings who love her and love the Lord and who were law-abiding citizens. Justin was a live for the moment kind of kid, loving others but not thinking through the effects of his actions before he acted, with friends who helped him find drugs at a younger age than I was when I first heard the "F" word. But they both died at age 20 and 21. And both deaths could have totally been prevented. Can Christians care less about others? I don't think it's possible. In reading though Laurie's families blogs, I've seen them write several times, "If we'd loved and cared about Laurie like she loved and cared about us, she would still be here." Could someone have influenced Justin in the ways that drugs and violence is not the answer? Maybe. But no one did. Laurie still had the relationship with her Heavenly Father. Justin didn't. I'll never see him again, and maybe I could've done something about it. It's easy to say that nothing I could've ever done or said would've changed the path of his life, but maybe it could have. Did I do all I could when I knew him? What about the people I work with now? What about Amanda and Erin, and the other people who live normal, moral lives, but haven't received God's gift of salvation? Am I doing all that God asks of me for them? How can I use my position as a "normal, non-eccentric" co-worker and friend among my co-workers to tell them about my Lord?

I have no answers to death and how things like this can be prevented. But I'll bet that if we all actually did what the Lord asks of us, things might be different. Or at least we wouldn't have any regrets.


Laurie


Justin

Huracán Adrián, Guerras Galácticas, y Todo el "PIE" Que Se Puede Comer

El viento sopló
El lluvia cayó
El agua fluyó
Y todo se inundó
Chorus to “Honduras” by d.c. Reto. It is a song about Hurricane Mitch in 1998.

Thankfully, this was not the case in Central America this time. At least from what I can tell it wasn’t. I was worried on Thursday afternoon when none of my catracho friends were at work, and things were looking bad for El Salvador and southern Honduras. But I talked with a friend in Tegus on Friday and he said things were ok, just lots of wind and rain. Of course, this guy lives in América, and I’m sure the homes there are a bit sturdier than in Germania where I live. But I figure worst case at my house – the bathroom ceiling might have fallen in (if it hadn’t already), and water probably came in the back door. Thanks to God that a repeat of 1998 was avoided!

So yesterday, I went to see Star Wars episode III. Karl bought several tickets to it, so the morning crew from work and the Scheels went. It was SOOOOOOOOOO good!!!!! I never even saw episode II because episode I was terribly pathetic. I’m definitely an old school Star Wars fan – especially with Harrison Ford in his glory days. Haha! But if you like Star Wars, episode III is a must see – it ties together a lot of loose ends, and explains a lot about the original 3 movies.

Tonight we had the chili feed & pie auction. This is one of the 2 days per year that I don’t eat most of the day, then eat a freaking TON at night (the other day is Oktoberfest). I had 2 bowls of chili, 4 pieces of pie, and an Italian soda. But my all time record is 2 chilis, and 6 pieces of pie! I hope to never do that again! Hehe!

Bendito Sea El Señor En La Creación

I'm not sure why, but I was recently thinking about the Mid-West U.S. I spent some time there (in the Chicago suburbs) last fall for my misison training. That was the 2nd time I'd been to the MidWest. Honestly, the first thing I remember thinking upon my first time in Illinois was that the land is flatter than anything I'd ever seen, and there were no pine trees, too many buildings, and basically that it's a not-so-pretty over-built grassland. Yes, I am very spoiled living in the Northwest! I remember at I.T. we had daily time built into our schedule the busy first week of classes to have personal devotion time. I went outside pretty much every day. And one of those days I remember thinking, "you know, it is kind of pretty here, just in a different way than the West Coast." Looking around me I could see lots of green grass, a small hill that led up to a water treatment plant, some deciduous trees, and I knew that there was a river about 1/2 a mile away. Somehow, God made that all seem beautiful to me. I also thought about Northern California, and how just north of Redding, it's about the most beautiful place ever, but once you go south of there (on the I-5 corridor anyway) it's grassland, but brown grass. Blah. But I think that could be pretty too.

It's a good thing that God is giving me a different view of beautiful scenery, and taking joy in His creation. That day in Illinois, I thought, "Hmm, I'm moving from the most beautiful place on earth (sorry, I'm biased) to the middle of the desert." Maybe Queretaro wouldn't seem like the middle of the desert to everyone, but it did to me. But it's still pretty in it's own way. Especially the centro of Queretaro, there are nice old buildings and sculped trees. I think they are green all year even though they are deciduous. But I am glad to have a bit of a change of attitude about the whole "scenery" thing. My college friends, especially those of you from the Brasil trip, know that that was a much needed change for me! ha! So I am thankful for a change of heart. We all need those once in a while.

Volví a Brasil!

Today, I had a long day at work. I was tired and it just wasn't the best day ever.
On the way home, I remembered that I still have Jamba Juice money on my gift card from Christmas, so I decided to go there to get a drink for lunch. They have a drink called Acai Energizer (or something like that). Açaí is a berry-ish type fruit from Brasil. I had açaí ice cream in Brasil, and it was just about the most wretched stuff ever, but its not the flavor thats bad, its the texture. It is like eating blackberries with a mouth full of sand. Anyhow, I was curious about how Jamba Juices Açaí is. So I got that drink. And it tasted good, and only has the ever-so-slightest inkling of sand. The funniest thing to me was that the Jamba girls told me that its ah-KAH-ee is how the fruit is pronounced. They thought it was funny that I pronounced it ah-sah-EE. But isso e o pronunçaõ portugues. That is how its supposed to be pronounced. Not that Im a Portuguese expert! Ha! I can somewhat read it, and maybe understand it if its spoken slowly, especially if the speaker tries for a spanish accent! You know, it was weird in Brasil to talk with people because many of them understand spanish, and I can pretty much understand slow portugues, so I talk to Brasilians in spanish, and they talk to me in portuguese. Once, the phone rang at the mission house where my short-term team was staying, and there were no portuguese-speakers in the house at that time, but usually it was another missionary on the phone, so someone answered it (who didnt speak portuguese). I was elected to find out who it was and what they wanted. Luckily, it was a guy that we knew, so he knew that none of us speak portuguese, and he knew who I was and that I speak spanish, so he went easy on me with incredibly slow portugese pronounced with a spanish accent with spanish and english words thrown in every now and then!

Speaking of talking on the phone in a different language... Sometimes I can talk really well on the phone in spanish - Paty didn't know who I was when I answered the phone at the Delgados. Marlia and I didn't recognize each others' spanish voices on the phone! But, then sometimes I really suck at talking on the phone. For example, my brothers always like me to answer the phone, partly because they don't feel like it and partly because they want a reason to laugh at me. So one day, all three of them were in the living room, and I was elected to answer the phonce. I couldn't understand much of what the lady was trying to say, other than the fact that she said that she was Karla, and I KNEW it wasn't my friend Karla because I'd recognize her voice, but she sounded like she knew me. A pillow flies across the room at me. I let out a little yelp. My brothers laugh. Karla gets frustrated and tells me she needs to talk to Suyapa if Michelle's not there. I tell her I can give her Michelle's phone number. But she already tried it. a DART flies across the room at hits me. I scream and drop the phone - wouldn't you freak out if you got hit with a dart?! Then I realized that it didn't hurt because it's a magnetic dart. I feel like crying from frustration. Iván has mercy on me and takes the phone. I hear him explain that I'm a gringa and I don't hear well on the phone. Thanks a lot. I was actually quite frustrated with my beloved brothers at that point, but I laugh about it now, and I still love them!!

La Vida Misionera

I was just writing an email to a professor of mine about missions. I was telling her about how surprised I am at some Christians' lack of knowledg when it comes to missions/missionaries.

Here are my ideas of what some common missionary misconceptions may be.

• All missionaries live on a "compound" with their other co-workers from the United States.
• They all wear pastel plaid skirts from 1983.
• That they go door-to-door handing out black and white tracts in the national language... which by the way, the missionary family does not speak, only the dad/husband does.
• The mom homeschools all the kids.
• In their spare time, they read the KJV Bible and sing old hymns.
• They come home once every 4 years, and think that everything in the States will be the same as it was in 1983, when they left for their new country.
• They will always consider the United States their home and always love going there.
• Their kids can't wait to go to college in the States when they're 18.
• They don't own any electronic equipment, except a rotary phone and a radio, maybe one with a cassette player.
• They don't know what a CD or a DVD is.
• When they come home on furlogh, someone at church puts their pictures on the computer and makes a power point presentation for them to share in church, because they don't know how to use power point, or a scanner, and definitely don't have a digital camera.
• They only interact with the people in their host country when they are saying the "sinner's prayer" with them.
• The women sew their own clothes.

So, those are some of the things that maybe people think about missionaries. Although, that's kind of a stretch, I give people a bit more credit than this! :-)

Although, some missionaries "didn't get the memo." I was in the San Salvador airport last summer, and I saw another gringa. She was sitting behind me in the airport, our backs to each other. A salvadoran woman struck up a conversation with her in english, wanting to know where she was from and why she was there. Since I didn't have anything else to do, I eavesdropped. The woman said "her husband" is a missionary in La Union (a more rural part of El Salvador). She homeschools her kids, and she doesn't really speak spanish because she lives only with her family and other missionaries. Did I mention she was wearing a lavendar jumpsiut with matching lavendar heels? That's where I got the year 1983 for an example in the above list. For those of you who don't know, salvadorans generally dress a lot like we do here, but maybe a little less casual. I didn't feel like I particularly want to grow up to be Mrs. 1983 jumpsuit.

When I think of a missionary who I'd like to be like, I think of my friend Michelle in Honduras. She is very up-to-date with popular youth culture (a good thing since she works quite a bit with teenagers). She dresses like Hondurans (like they do in 2005, not 1983), or maybe a little more casual. She uses technology and pop-culture in relating to young people. She LIVES among other Hondurans, in a similar manner that they live in.

That is more how I want to be. If I can't relate to other people my age in Mexico, it will be detrimental to my ministry. I want to be up to speed with Mexican pop-culture and style (while not spending my whole existence trying to keep up with the Joneses). Anyhow, I've gone on long enough about this, so the bottom line is that you must live AMONG the people in a culturally similar way or they probably won't be too keen on hanging around you.

By the way, Feliz Cinco de Mayo!


Here is Michelle, a real live missionary who doesn't wear pastel plaid. (She's the very front lady in the picture)


Young people hanging out in the ministry center / coffee house in Queretaro. See, they like to do the same stuff that we do here! And the room is decorated "hecka tight!"

Rinconcito de MEXICO

Well, I had a really good Sunday (2 days ago!!) I went back to Iglesia de Cristo (wasn't able to go the week before...). It was so nice to be remembered and welcomed back. After the Una Vida Con Proposito sermon, we all went to Bush Park in a celebration of children's day. It was a potluck, I felt kind of bad because I didn't know about it, so I didn't bring anything. Then we played a lot. Again, I didn't know about this, so I was in tall shoes and a skirt! ha! We hadd 4, yes FOUR piñatas! It is always so much funner (great use of english, huh?) to do piñatas with latinos, they are way more into it that gringos. Even the adults dove for candy. Now, I don't mean that people were running up to the candy spilage and bending down to grab pieces, the kids literally go head first for the candy, using their arms, not fingers, to grab as much candy as possible. Yes, this did result in some minor injuries. But just minor ones. So I was not as agressive as the other adults, an ended up with just a few pieces of candy. But someone felt sorry for me, and let me choose some of their prized pieces of Mexican candies!

It is strange to me to be considered more or less an adult among this group of people. In Honduras, I am still a teenager. Heck, my good friends Luisa and Omar are still teenagers. They are two years older than me. There was a 33 year old at youth camp last summer as a participant because he is single and still a 'teenager'. Anyhow, I guess it's different in different places. I just think that I'm not in the States when I'm with my new Mexican friends! It's my little piece of Latin America. I can pretend that I really am there! hehehe!