Trees

That's right. This post will be about trees.

Currently going through (over and over) the beginning of the Bible, I think about the trees of the garden of Eden. The LORD God made trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food, first of all. This gives pause more than ever after choosing a vegetarian lifestyle for forty days. How many different kinds of fruits ("trees that bear fruit with seed in it" according to Scripture) can I add to my palate, to maintain variety? And when I take the time to look at the fruit, indeed, they are aesthetically pleasing. The roundness of the pear, the beautiful mixture of red and yellow in the skin of the apple.

CRUNCH. Most definitely good for food. Sweet juices trickle down the side of my mouth which my tongue enthusiastically wipes clean.

Then there were two other trees. The tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Why did the tempter neglect to deceive the woman to eat from the first tree? What did he know that she didn't?

The end of the Bible then talks about that first tree. The tree of life will heal the nations; the curse will be lifted (curse of sin?). But before we get to the end, Psalm 1 also talks about a tree that always bears its fruit in season, never withers, always prospers. Taking root in the Word of God.

Yesterday, I watched a video about the earth. One that talked about how we need to be careful at how we use its limited resources. I thought of the scene in Evan Almighty where the God character shows Evan how he had intended the land to look. Certainly, we have a lot of cleaning up to do, just as there are many ways in which we could be living off of much less.

But the part of the trees also got to me. The narrator had said something about how trees are the only living creatures that perpetually defy gravity. They feed off the sun and transform its energy into leaves and wood. Sure its roots dig deep for water, but what about this idea of looking to the sun to provide real life?

Later the narrator talks about how we penetrate the depths of the earth to sequester as much coal and oil as we can for ourselves, and that in the end, it really just leads to the destruction of our planet. What if we stopped looking inside for answers, and followed the example of the trees? What if we instead looked to the Son for our source of energy/life? Might there be less dangerous side-effects? Might this be what it means to see this healing of the nations talked about in Revelation?

Chau.

I haven't forgotten

I have been needing to update on girls' institute life. It has a lot to do with not being much to share, but nonetheless, worth a blog.

When we first arrived, we had one girl--Belen. She happened to be a difficult one from last year. I remember trying to talk with her, but she simply would never talk back. And not the timid not talk, but the gives me a slight scowl not talk. Intimidating.

We had the idea that this year, we could bring Eva from our OM team along more often, because she is a very talented woman (she continues to surprise me with all that she can make or do!). So for the first week, we tested it out by having Eva teach some basic crochet. Turns out, Belen just needs something to keep her concentration. She did a great job with the basic circle and in fact, brought a small pizza size circle of blue yarn with her the next week completed. You should have seen the look of pride in her face!

Unfortunately, she was gone within the next week, and we have been with Jessica ever since. Jessica has always been easy to please. I think she just likes hanging out with people, although she does love living in such a large facility without anyone else to fight with. So far we have made bracelets, done a little bit of crochet, and drawn together.

The challenge with the girls' institute is not only that there are so few girls and it often feels like we don't accomplish much, but also the fact that it's hard to get good conversation going. I ask basic questions as much as I can--how are you? how is school? what did you do this weekend?--but the answers are often terse. I could use prayer for perseverance as well as ideas for good questions given my still limited Spanish (though praise God for how much has been learned thus far!). Prayer to keep the conversation going between us!

I am encouraged that there is always an open door for us, as every director has gotten more involved with our time spent together. There have even been weeks where is just the extranjeros, Sarah and I, going by ourselves and without the fear we probably would have had last spring. I also see one of the director's during my weekly walks, and we always shoot the breeze a bit before continuing on. Nonetheless, I know there is more we can do for them!

Chau.

Happy birthday x3 (long but worth it!)

I am averaging a Cordobes (pronounced cor-doh-bess) birthday party a week, and each one of them has been very special.

It started off with an asado for the landlady of Maria Elena. She turned 91! An age, if I recall correctly, reached by my great grandfather, and this particular party was reminiscent of one of his later birthday fiestas held in Kingsville when I was a kid. I remember how many family members, perfect strangers, and random activities were involved. This one came close.

For one, I felt like one of the perfect strangers. In fact, I was equally reminded of one birthday party at my friend's neighbor's house. Ariel H. and I had been playing in her backyard when we noticed a sweet bounce house being assembled next door. Disregard the fact that we were in high school, our eyes were getting pretty big, and I still thank God that the neighbor saw our bounce house lust and invited us over. I remember how freely that family offered us food and drink, and talked to me as if we had known each other since grade school.

For la dueña, Maria Elena spent all morning preparing the side dishes while her husband Carlos prepared the meat. The "boys," the landlady's grandson and friends, huddled around fernet and beer, and the children ran all through the patio/backyard/dining area. If the meat wasn't enough, don't forget the two-tiered cake ME had prepared along with three flavors of ice cream from a local artesan.

The memory I'll take with me is probably the moment of the gift giving. Luciano, the grandson, brought forth the present they had me wrap just minutes before--a digital picture frame. First of all, there was the generational gap in terms of understanding the capacity of this technology. She clearly didn't get it, and the rest of her family took a long time explaining it to her. When they finally turned it on, the family had pre-uploaded pictures of the woman and her family from long ago.

You should have heard her shriek. And then almost pull the frame too fast, out of socket, causing it to break. All was well though, and she became more astonished as the pictures changed. She kept thinking that whatever was showing was the last one, and didn't wait for any of the others until reassured there were more. Adorable.

Then came an invite from Fer (or Fernando) for his 18th:

He was actually dressed like this for the third birthday, but I'll get to that later. You can just say he was wearing a New York Yankees shirt (without the knowledge of what the NY symbol is about), and it was against my religion to take a picture of that. Just kidding.

The party was planned in typical Argentinian fashion. Told to arrive at the church at 7pm, our guide to the bus didn't come until 7:45pm. During that time, Chichilo was sent to two different homes to remind people to come over. Oh, and he was sent at 7:30, which means we did not actually head out until 8:15 or so. Then on our way to the bus, we picked up another person who just happened to cross paths with us.

As for the bus, 45min long. I had not realized how far Fer has to travel to get to youth group, and thought more about this during the "5 or 6 blocks" (make that 9 or 10) in the utter darkness of his neighborhood. A neighborhood that brought back wonderful memories of the quadrangular dirt paths of Chaco.

When we arrived, the home was made of exposed cement blocks. His family welcomed us in, always making it a point that whoever enters is practically family. I met the rest of his siblings, and extended family, while Jorge immediately grabbed the guitar and played duets with Elias, the older brother. The music reverberated against the walls; it was hard to hear, but I was still able to carry good conversations with various folk throughout the dining room/living room that extended to a tight kitchen and small bathroom.

The youth group that had come gathered around for a time of praise and worship and afterward, Raul and Andrea had the idea to give gifts of encouragement. We went around the circle, and I felt the chills of the Holy Spirit as people expressed how much of an example Fer is to their lives. Then, in classic Argentinian, the man of the hour cried as he extended gratitude to all who had come. Seriously, men have no shame here, and for the most part, I love it!

This was definitely the highlight of the night. Soon after, we dispersed again while I hitched a ride from the Mullers. The following morning I was going to the zoo with the boys (por fin!), while the unbeknownst plan among the rest was to stay until 5am since busses were no longer running. Emm.. false.

Finally, the cumple de quince. No, they do not call it a quinceniera here. In fact, if you use that term, they will only look at you funny. 

A girl from the youth group at Raul and Andrea's church had, you know, about 200 people coming to her grandparents house in the country to celebrate her 15th birthday. I was invited not by her, but by her cousins, and I was definitely coming. I was also definitely buying a dress for the occasion, and was glad I did, because well, look at how well dressed the boys were:

Gonzalo, Johnny, Fer, Chichilo, and Juliano

But here's the kicker. The party started at 4 or 4:30pm. As I had youth group during that time, we (Maria Sol and Nieves) didn't arrive until 8pm. We missed out on the 4+ hours of entertainment including foosball, ping pong, a mechanical bull and a bounce house (NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!), so everyone was still in their gym clothes hanging around when we got there. When I asked where miss Abigail was though, a nonchalant, "Oh, she hasn't arrived yet," was the response.

Around 9 or 9:30pm everyone scrunched into the farm house, thing, to change into prom like attire. Women sharing hair straighteners, two bathrooms, three rooms, makeup and deodorant bustled through the building, while the guys had an outhouse like attachment to the building in which they changed, one at a time. People gawking "Ooooh!!!!" and "Que hermosa!!" for everyone's transformation.

Around 11 or 11:30pm we started gathering around the tables in preparation to eat. But before we could eat, we had to wait for the guest of honor. In the meantime, a couple bands practiced, music played over the loud speaker, and about 4 or 5 times, there was a power outage. My guess, due to overexertion.

Finally, I don't remember when, because my mind was occupied by the stomach, Abi arrived with her welcome tune of "My heart will go on" by Celine Dion playing not once, but twice. After all, she had to give personal salutations, and take photos, with every guest attending. (I showed grace by just going and snapping a picture of her in her princess costume, unaware.)

Que hermosa!

Finally, the food! Granted, I couldn't eat most of it, but that didn't stop me from smelling it! (Yes, that is an entire cow cut in half and cooking for several hours under the flame.)

Then a bunch of people sang/spoke/sang some more. Seriously, it's as if it turned into a talent show. The announcer/emcee type would say, "Hey uncle, you can sing, why don't you come up here and hum us a few bars?" (my translation) And without hesitation, we were entertained for at least a quarter of an hour. In fact, at one point, another said, "Hey everyone did you know we have someone from Texas here?"

I was playing Uno at this point with most of the youth group, so I'll admit that all I had heard was "Texas" and so I looked up and gave a thumbs up (Oh Texas pride, how it can get you every time...). Turns out, he was wanting me to come up and give a few words as to what I was doing in Argentina. Following suit, I came to the front and mumbled the basics. "Hello.. yep.. I'm a missionary.. my name? Oh, it's Sha-ray-uh.. (pause for everyone to test it out).. I work with teenagers.. so happy to be here.. thanks for the invite.. etc. etc." Awkward and normal can be placed within the same moment.

What else? Various fun moments including getting to use "Chavon" with Chichilo and everyone cracking up at me. A possibly drunk young man whining, or so it sounded like, through several Maroon 5 songs to show how well he knows English (ha). A 9 year old singing "Montaña" and everyone getting into it. Great conversations with various people about how cool it is to celebrate the work of God in community like on this night. Watching the numbers slowly dwindle as people escaped to the tents in the back, or squeezing around 8 people on a bed. The tradition of pulling a string from a bowl filled with rocks (the birthday girl gets to hold it), and seeing if there's a ring at the other end of the string. That signifies that you're getting married within the next year. Then there was waiting at the bus stop at 5:30am.. again at 7am.. finally coming home for a shower and much needed rest.

All this makes up, for me at least, not being able to be there to watch my nephew celebrate his first year of life and stuff his face with cake. I still wish I could have been there, as well as at my mom's and a couple of my cousin's birthdays as of late. God has blessed me with family here, and some new adventures to share! Oh how I love culture! Chau.

I like

Madeleine L'Engle. She writes in the fourth book in a series known as the Crosswick Journals:

"We need to say 'Thank you' whenever possible, even if we are not able to reconcile the human creature's free will with the Maker's working out of the pattern. Thanks and praise are, I believe, some of the threads with which the pattern is woven."

She then goes on to talk about the paradox of light as a wave and particle. "Living with contradiction is nothing new to the human being." (Yet, how hard it is to grasp the completely God, completely human paradox of Jesus sometimes!)

Then, in regards to marriage, about the many fights she had had with her husband:

"And I am reminded of one woman who, when asked if she had ever contemplated divorcing her husband, replied, Divorce, never! Murder, yes!" (Perhaps this one is better with context, but she makes a point between hot anger and cold anger. It is better to express feelings and let them be done with, rather than to bury them for years and years.)

I came to the conclusion that I want to be a mixture between this woman and Corrie Ten Boom. Madeleine's gentleness can be balanced out with Corrie's outright honesty. Both have a sense of daring, of courage. I remain the woman God has created me to be, but I look to these women (and many, many others) as examples. Just a thought. Chau.

Nuevas frases

First of all, an applause for USA not getting stomped by Lionel Messi.. I mean, by the Argentinian team. It was re-fun to watch it with Johnny, Chichilo, Juliano and Fernando and give each other flack throughout the game. I especially loved when they threw the Argentinian flag on me after the first goal. Oh, and all the times when the US would foul and they would look at me like it was my fault. jaja.

Moving on, I have realized, particularly after a short conversation with a friend on gchat, that there are so many colloquialisms to learn. You can speak a Spanish that is understood, but there's a visible difference when you use the words of the street. For instance:

1. "No me sale." When a word is difficult for you to say, instead of saying literally, "I can't say that word," use this phrase. It translates to, "It does not leave me well." When I said this during a devotion I gave last week at a local school, a couple of the kids came forward to help me out after.

2. "Chavon." This is the word for, "Hey man!" that is most used by Chichilo. Oh, how this kid is a riot. When I asked Maria Elena what the word means she explained and said that it's very "Violetero." That is, the slang from Las Violetas.

3. "Capaz." I'm still figuring this one out. But I kind of think of it as short for "capacity." You say it more or less when referring to a possible future. "Perhaps (Capaz) she will run a marathon in July," for example. As in, "She has the capacity to run, but it may not come to pass." Viste? Speaking of..

4. "Viste?" I explained this one to my parents the other day. It's not so much a colloquialism as it is a common filler word. Much like "Emm" instead of "Umm." Or "Me entiendes?" (<--not a misspelling with the use of "vos") instead of "You get what I'm sayin?" Viste is "Did you see?" The way I think of it is like the 1930s black and white movies that involve special detectives explaining how they solved a case. Picture Humphrey Bogart with a cigarette sticking from the side of his mouth, "He gave me the maltese falcon, you see? But then it turned out to be a fake. You're just going to have to back to Istanbul, you see?"

5. "Sepa." Apparently you can translate saber, which is "to know," in the third person to "Sepa." Plural, it's "Sepan." I asked Maria Sol if I could still say "Sabe," which I can, but this other word is more common. Who knew? Ahem.. Quién sepa? No? Oh well, I tried. :P

6. "Me alegro" and "Me pone feliz." I tried to say that something makes me happy, and I was corrected. I can use one of these two phrases, although the former is preferred.

There are so much more that take time to figure out, but they come. Slowly but surely. Praising God have more time to learn this beautiful language! Chau.

Awww shucks

For those of you who know me, this is one of my phrases. I would like to say I reserve it for special moments in particular. But that is not the case. It comes out when I'm happy, when I'm annoyed (and thus using it sarcastically), when people say nice things to me, etc. etc.

This time, it came out when I received a lovely package from my parents. First, when I received this oh-so-darling penguin oven mitt. After all, I do love penguins, I love to cook, and am now sporting three burns on my hands from three different occasions. It's like they know me or something. hehe.

The phrase escaped my mouth a second time when I received such lovely letters from most of my cousins and aunts and uncles and grandma and grandpa to encourage me in my time here. I can't pick a favorite, because they are all great!

And it came out once again when I realized I had received word from my adopted kid in India named Deep. He said that he's praying for me, and I just sighed.

Awww shucks indeed. Chau.

Not so Catholic

I joked in my latest update about practicing Lent in that I'm not eating meat. Lent is Cuaresma in Castellano, referring to the 40, or cuarenta, days before Easter (Pascua). I figured that not only is it a tradition in my family to give something up, but I'm in a predominately Catholic nation. It just makes sense, right?

Not so right. While Wikipedia does say 70-90% of the proclaiming Christians are of the Roman Catholic persuasion, I'm not so sure.

After all, Sarah and I searched all day for one of the Catholic Ash Wednesday services to no avail. We were even in the city that night and didn't see, or at least I didn't (I don't know about Sarah), a single cross on one's forehead.

When we asked Javi what the deal is, he told us that there hasn't been as much respect for the Catholic churches for these past five years. And for the same reason you might suspect--various scandals among the leaders of the church.

"Certainly there are still celebrations like midnight mass for Christmas?" we asked.

"What?"

Hmm.. I've had other conversations with the people talking about the differences between the Catholic and Evangelical churches. Many are surprised to hear the Catholics are actually Christians too (which is a similar line of thinking in the States). Some though, acknowledge that the problems of the Catholic leadership is really what is offensive.

It just kills me to see such beautiful churches...

... but no one knows the work being done in and through them. I explain that I can't eat meat for Lent and they respond, "That's okay, we'll get empanadas."

Umm.. no.. that doesn't work either. And after a few minutes of explanation they still don't make the connection. You will find many Argentinians make the sign of the cross whenever they pass these churches, but they really aren't so clear on what they believe. Chau.