Consistently inconsistent

While we had hoped to go to the zoo with the boys this week, it didn't work out. On the upside, we had a great game of soccer!

We had more boys than usual this time. I finally met Brian, and Franco came. Chechu's brother was there too. And you know what? No fighting, hardly any cussing--we were blessed with such a great morning! Well, except for this one time where I might have strained one of the ligaments in my knee and couldn't walk too well. But all is well now (thanks to some ice, elevation of the said knee, and a little ibuprofen).

I kept thinking on the bus ride home how much we would not have understood how great today was had we not had bad weeks. We wouldn't have been able to see how much Rodrigo uno has to work at being obedient, nor would we have seen his new respect for JD, the one he calls Gringo, had he not been so difficult beforehand. The reason stars shine so bright stems from the great contrast to the surrounding dark space after all.

Wednesday's adventure to the girls' institute was short-lived, as another group had taken our place for Wednesday afternoons. "Can you come tomorrow?"

"Ok."

Wednesday we had also scheduled a Spanish lesson, one that had been originally planned for Tuesday. Then we arrived at Romina's house only to find that we would have to move it to the next week.

Then there was alfajores day. Only Maria Elena was too busy this week (and I had every intention of coming to help her until I may or may not have hurt my knee) to be able to lead, so that was cancelled too.

We had a good time with the Jessica and Laris at the girls' institute though. Jenny and Joanna gave manicures, while Sarah played with Maria Luz (Laris' child), and I shared a story from the Bible. We simply spent the time getting to know each other since we were so few, as one of the girls was hospitalized due to pregnancy complications and the other girls were visiting her. We asked about some of the things we can do in the coming weeks, and we found out that they are in need and in want of Bibles. Perhaps God will open up more in depth studies from that!

It's easy to get frustrated at changed plans. Particularly when this isn't the first time. Sarah and I had both had a feeling that Wednesday wasn't going to work out any way, even before we had arrived. We couldn't explain why we felt that way, we just did.

Once again, I'm used to it after working so much with teenagers over the past years. It's the nature of things--as there is a great enemy trying to foil plans and intentions. Praise be to God that His plans shall not be foiled!

Something to think and pray about. Please continue to pray for the boys, and for the girl, Natia, who is in the hospital. Pray for our hearts to always be prepared to give an answer when the Father does provide an opportunity to share about Jesus, and that Satan's schemes will continue to be quenched!

Chau.

Día lleno

1. Escuelita. I woke up a little cansada--tired. We arrived home late last night after a meeting at the church with the youth group, and then going to Maria Elena's for dinner. I.E. a 2am bedtime. Approximately. I might have checked to see if the Rangers were playing or not. Oh, and I read more of Mansfield Park... any way...

Escuelita was interesting. Last week was missed due to the trip to Villa Dolores and I heard there were a lot of kids who came. They came back. Ultimately it was all the kids that have been sort of coming from week to week, now being consistent. I only had to learn a few extra names, and the total had to be around 20 or 25. Great news when we have more leaders to take care of the chaos, but only average as more of the time is spent on crowd control.

We had a small devotional about Halloween, and I as impromptu as you can get, asked to lead one group. "Uhh... sure!

"¿Porqué no?"

The kids helped me with translation, as I told the back story as to why I've never celebrated the holiday. This was actually beneficial as it forced the kids to pay attention to what I was trying to say. We also had two sheets of paper with the information about the dreadful history of Halloween, and one gal in particular was concerned. After all had ended, God provided an opportunity to talk with her more about the choices and convictions we have. On the childish level, she really just wants the candy, but she was disturbed to learn about the Celtic rituals and how scary they truly are.

Sharing the gospel is different here, have I mentioned this? Everything I've encountered thus far is much more straightforward. It reminds me of Peter's sermon during Pentecost. "You killed him (Jesus)," he essentially says. So too, are the Bible lessons with kids, adolescents and so on very much pointing to the sin that brings Jesus to the cross.

I like it because it's true, but I also question the timing. I don't mean to step on toes here because I want to say I will follow my leaders who understand the culture much better than I do. Maybe this way is best--this straightforward, a little scary way of showing people how much we need Jesus/need to be careful about our convictions when it comes to celebrating Halloween.

"Whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached and because of this I rejoice."(?)

Something I'm praying about, nevertheless was blessed by the conversation I had with young Sophia. I tried to explain the verse in Corinthians that says everything is permissible, but not everything is beneficial. I have personal convictions that I live by, I told her. "But I don't expect everyone to live the way I do. I choose to do or not do certain things for the sake of others and what will benefit them more than me."

2. Youth group. We (Maria Sol and I) met at 4pm to find that we were too early. I was told to come at this time, and still came a little late to try to stay true to Latin time. Honestly didn't need to come until 5:15pm though. The fairly large group of us set out to a local plaza filled with children and their parents playing and naturally, enjoying maté. The youth group had been all talk about how excited they were about the opportunity, but when we actually came to the plaza they seemed more a deer in headlights.

So I just walked to the other corner and began juggling. In about 15 minutes, I had a small crowd of children around fascinated and it brought two things. First, the desire to be even better at juggling. Second, the rest of the youth group with much more boldness to begin their various forms of sharing the gospel (such as with these cute vests that have the different colors of the wordless book method).

Since they had a good group going, I then went to another part of the plaza and juggled some more. Here, I made a friend, a little guy named Alex. Another young man came, and he brought even more of his friends over. I began to teach them the basics of malabares (juggling), but things were starting to get out of hand. The small group of boys (other than Alex) were starting to throw the pelotas at each other. I began to pray immediately because there was nothing I could do.

Gracias a Dios! Thanks be to God. Right in that moment of prayer, two young men from the youth group were walking by, so I looked at them and exclaimed, "Ven aca chicos, y encuentre mis nuevos amigos! (Come here boys and meet my new friends)." With perfect understanding of their cue, they began to share the gospel with the group that had gathered around me. In that time, I was able to put my things away, and even began talking with Alex's parents who were nearby. I was able to share with them the reason for being in Córdoba (Jesus), as well as other details about life as a whole. They seemed intrigued, but were also hindered because the wife is Jewish and the husband Catholic. If they couldn't resolve their different religions, how could they pick one church to go to?

This made me sad, however, I was still grateful to talk with them about how important Jesus is in our lives and I hope and pray they will make it to a Jesus following church. Thanks be to God once again, as He provided every word, and gave such perfect timing.

Off to part 3 of the day--Luz Urbana.

3. The night was meant to be filled with many college age kiddos who were to enjoy a time of games and short films that centered on a Facebook theme. Lucas, Joy and I had gone to Patio Olmos, an important weekend hangout to invite people to come. Despite our enthusiasm, only a handful came at all.

The upside was meeting Gabri. We played Uno in a large group, and got to talking about his desire to learn English. Luz Urbana happens to have English classes every Tuesday night (and it's expanding to Thursday evenings to have English talks of a spiritual nature), so I invited him to come. He seemed interested. Although he did not come the following Tuesday, we are, haha, Facebook friends now, so I hope there is another opportunity to invite him.

Arrived at home around 2:30am. Welcome to ministry life!

Fitting in

Can't get much more Argentinian.

A day trip to the Sierras. Met at the bus terminal. Hiked up and down a river. Sunbathed WHILE sharing maté. Spoke mostly in Spanish (well, sorta). Was almost a victim of a stray dog fight. Drank some Fanta. Ate sandwiches with some salami-slash-pepperoni meat. Bus home. Walked through the streets to Maria Lena's to share more maté, eat duranzos and make alfajores maicena. Reloaded on my cospeles. Bussed home again. Chatted with the neighbors.

Short post due to a great need for sleep for the coming few days. Still hoping to update about this past weekend--it was so great!

Las Violetas

When I say slum, I wonder if you think of the movies like I had--do you think of District 9? Do you think of the Hoovervilles in Cinderella Man?

As we walked to el Refugio this morning, it was Heather who noted, "How beautiful this area was probably intended to be." She was referring to a lagoon type place, with weeping willows and a calm stream of water. The water is murky, and meets the street filled with bottles, other forms of trash, and the resulting hyper-green algae.

Along the side of this stream, the back way into the barrio, is a mud path filled with broken glass. We enter a side street made of cement block homes with unfinished walls. On these walls, names like Facundo and Josue declare their love for various girls in purple spray paint, only the girls' names have now been crossed out and unmentionable words are now inscribed.

The streets are clear. We saw our first taxi today, as it avoided a stray dog who refused to move from his resting point in the middle of the road. He stared the yellow cab down, only brave enough to come during the day I suppose. It is rumored taxis don't come to Las Violetas out of fear of robbers.

The gate screeches open as we enter el Refugio, because it scrapes against the ground and lacks WD-40. Described as a place for teenagers, children also find the Refuge as a safe place to get away from home. The teenagers have come to a point where they are well acquainted with life in the barrio, and many have assimilated to the rules of the land. Those who do come, only come Thursday, as it is a source of immediate income. The other workshops offered during the week have no monetary reward, so what's the point?

We greet everyone with a kiss on the right cheek, a "Cómo andas?" and I try to make a point to say everyone's name when we say hola. Gustavo, Davíd, Pedro, Chichillo (also known as Profé), Celeste and Maribel. Others come in and out near the end of our time together. We spend a quarter of an hour in Bible study in the patio in the back, but the teenagers are more interested in learning the few English phrases we can teach them when we return to complete our work.

I've been trying to assess the importance of college, or more colloquially called, university. I've heard of these kids not participating in school past our equivalent of middle school. For one, it's not offered with qualified teachers. Additionally, going to school is looked down upon by their peers.

Davíd (22) though, talked of his dream of going to school for dentistry. I was impressed, because many of the adolescents here, and not just in Las Violetas, have no sense of dreams, or sueños, for their future. Many shrug at the question of what they hope for. And in case you are surprised by the age and the word "adolescent" coming together, it has to do with cultural differences.

When I say goodbye, I try to say their names again. I try to say that I look forward to seeing them next week, or for some, the next day at church. We walk back to Las Palmas and see some of them again walking to their homes. Some of them have stray dogs now following them, and we all avoid the gifts the perros give to our paths. More people are walking the streets now, and we make eye contact with most, giving a "Buenos días." They respond with a smile and ask how we are.

Their clothes are worn. Two roosters cross our path. Several motorcycles will weave through us. Children pass us with cigarettes held between their index fingers and thumbs.

The church in Las Violetas is the last thing we pass before exiting through the back way once again. It's a large, orange painted, structure. The very top has a faded sign that says Jesus is the only way to be saved. I read it and pray, and then am interrupted when a truck from the 50s roars past and splashes the sewage that has collected on the street. Thankful for having avoided getting splashed, but saddened by the distractions of this neighborhood. We have passed panaderias that give off the fresh scent of baked bread, but then in a moment are consumed by the smell of dog leftovers.

In and out, in and out. Splashes of good, of hope, contrasted by the truly disgusting.

Chau.

From scratch

Hopefully to the delight of my team leader in Buenos Aires (hi Vanesa), I write again about food. Wednesday is my cooking day after all, and add to that that it's Census day, I've got a lot of time on my hands.

What is Census day? Census day is when all businesses are closed (including the mall) as all are required to stay home for the Census takers to come to the door to ask the basic questions involving the census. How many times can I include census in one sentence? Sense us taking the census on the day of census. But I digress... What I have most enjoyed so far though is not being woken up by the clippity-clop of horses, or the bustling of motorcycles by our window. Sweet, sweet sleep!

The downside is that the meat store is closed. Then again, I'm always wanting to try new things, and so I've scraped together our vegetables and have begun creating a pumpkin lentil soup! The trick that I must include as well is that we have some stomachs to account for. One stomach does not like mushrooms (for shame!) and another gets really bad heart burn from tomatoes. The past few days has been especially rough on her since tomatoes have been the main ingredient.

I found this recipe and I'm hopeful, but also a little nervous as we don't have all the ingredients. Maybe you read about our lack of ingredients before in the Tonta post, but if not, I'll include a picture of everything.

The top left are the lentils being prepared. On the bottom left are the pumpkin pieces ready to be baked for the major ingredient of pumpkin puree. On the bottom right you see the prepared vegetable stock, as we don't have regular broth readily available. This is why cooking takes longer; you have to prepare the ingredients for the ingredients of the final product. It's kinda fun, as long as you have the time.

Oh my goodness! I just tasted the pumpkin puree and it is scrumptious! I hope that's a good sign for the whole meal!!

Praise the Lord for a puree machine!

Ok.. the time is coming to an end when they are said and done. Looks like the lentils are still a little hard, but it doesn't take away from the wonderful taste! I'm twice as excited because now I can make pumpkin puree from scratch which means I've completed half the battle for making pumpkin pie, or better yet, pumpkin cheesecake!!!

Oh yes, it was quite tasty!

It's never that easy

To the boys' institute today. I was in good spirits, as we were learning new Spanish words and laughing about the many obstacles on the sidewalks during our walk. When we entered the institute on Dom Zipoli street, my eyes met with Rodrigo uno--

"Aww S*%# MOTHER-F*&$#@$!!" he shouted.

These were the same English curse words he shouted when I had kicked the soccer ball he was reeling back for last week. He didn't forget.

During our walk from the institute to the nearby park, I practiced my apology once again. Part of me wanted to pray that he would just forget the whole thing so that we could play without any qualm.

The boys in general were very rowdy. The good news is that the boys were mostly the same this week; something I had prayed for in hopes of building better friendships with them. Unfortunately, they couldn't stop fighting each other and spitting at each other and talking about each others' moms (that part they didn't think I understood). Then there was Fabrizio who just went off to sit alone most of the time. Sometimes I wanted to cry for their sakes.

I prayed for the opportunity to approach Rodrigo uno again. I said that I wanted to apology for last week, and that I hoped we could come to peace. He nodded, and I felt that I saw forgiveness in his eyes. Then, of course, came Rodrigo dos who just wanted to pick another fight, while JD (our fellow worker) was trying to playfully stop all of the madness.

Thankfully, I did have a chance to talk a little with Fabrizio. He had asked us to pray for his dad, Diego, last week, so I asked him about that. He had looked up with me in amazement. "You remembered?" Sometimes there are those little moments to make up for how terrible it can be.

I thought a bit on the way home (especially during the part where I got on a bus that the rest of our group could not squeeze on fast enough) about how much we want the forgive and forget concept to work more with others than with ourselves. There are two realities here: the first is that it's not in our capacity to easily forget when one has wronged us. The second is that I seriously don't want to mess with a kid and his soccer ball on this side of the world.

In order for relationships to work, we've got to try harder to forget. We need to be able to show more grace to one another when one or the other can not, and we've got to work through as much as we can if we want to call it a relationship at all. That last sentence probably needs a few read throughs, but in my head it works. I'll leave with this verse:

If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Romans 12:18

IF it is possible. As much as you can. Everyone. This world is full of sinners, but our God is greater. I pray for more endurance during these frustrating and heartbreaking times with these boys. Please pray additionally for next week, as we are taking them to the zoo. Chau.

The Advantages of Being a Celebrity Missionary

That's right, I said it. One of the advantages of being from the States is everyone wants to hear you speak English. Or they want to make fun of you. Or they want to comment on your pale skin (SHE'S SO PALE!). As the mantra goes, any publicity is good publicity.

In Córdoba, I don't make a splash. I enjoy fitting in fairly well; until I say something with bad grammar and then they know and overcharge me. But that's only happened a couple times. Truly, it is wonderful to fit in and be one with the people. It's just sometimes... sometimes you want to not have to work so hard to gain authority for speaking and being heard.

In Villa Dolores, I got to use my white skin for the sake of Christ, and it was wonderful.

We cruised through the mountains. I recalled visions from the past, driving to Loveland Pass and Copper, except these mountains were not snow laden. They were much more rocky, brown and dry. They were much taller. They were breath-taking!

Our group of Raúl, Andrea, Eva and I, the lone native English speaker, shared lunch with the pastor of the local church before having a meeting with the Scouts. The plan was to perform a drama that talked about peer pressure, and then to meet in small groups to discuss the verse in Joshua that says to "Choose this day Whom you will serve."

Comment: ad-libbing is a learned skill. It takes time to be creative, to go against the grain, if by grain you mean script. For us, we had no script. This is a skit that has been done among the OM group for years, so all they needed to do was add me, right?

Ha. Ad-libbing in another language is a completely different story. Thankfully, I was clear with the others that I only needed a single line or two during each part if it really mattered. So there I am trying to act my part, make sure I really understand what's being said (as it changes within our two performances and two warm up rounds) in order to catch my "cue."

It worked out. We ended up having some great discussions with the kids after, so I'm glad I wasn't too distracting. Raúl had too much fun with it though, as he is a natural born clown and liked to throw me off as best he could.

During the discussions, I was surprised to hear these preteens talking about the peer pressure they've already faced. I shouldn't have been too surprised, but I think it just breaks my heart hearing stories of the affects of alcohol and drugs so early for kids.

As soon as the discussion finished was when I felt the first affects of celebrity-ness. Three girls in particular were fond of hearing English, but I resisted as best as I could. I prayed during our few talks, asking God to provide a moment to share more with these young ladies. The opportunity did not come, but I am already Facebook friends with two of them, so I am hopeful.

Moving on, we went to a church where we would nap before the final performance and fellowship time. I was drawn to a young gal that I had at first thought was 16 years old. After we talked about how tough dealing with peer pressure can be, I find out she is only 12!

We made a quick connection, and even talked more the next day. I have been praying for Belen and her friends ever since, with the desire that she choose Christ more than ever in her young age.

Praise God for some great conversation and connection this weekend. I am already looking forward to another chance to visit and reconnect with these gals! Chau.