Katarin's Story

 

Today you are going to get to know Katarin.  The whole team knew Katarin almost immediately after hitting the ground. She is one of those kids who makes herself known. 

 Katarin is the older sister of little Rosa who you met in the last post. She is three years old, which in Nicaraguan years must be closer to 10 since as far as I could tell, she was responsible for not only herself, but for her two year old sister. 

Although she is from the same family as Rosa, she is very different. She has a sparkle in her eye. And she smiles.   And she is spunky!

Katarin has learned to fight and scrape for what she gets. I very much believe that that is out of necessity.  She places herself strategically where she is sure to receive the most benefit. Whether that means butting in front of people to be first in line, screaming at the top if her lungs "a mi! a mi!" when we were passing stuff out,  making a new front row with her chair if she isn't in the front, or even bumping her little sister out of her chair if necessary...Miss Katarin did not show a lot of respect for boundaries or an abundance of manners when it came to getting hers. 

 Is that normal behavior for a three year old?  Yep, absolutely!  But where as most little ones make a couple of shots at it, have their efforts thwarted, and then fall into line, Katarin is relentless. 

 I got talking to our translator one day about how hard it was some times to convince the kiddos- even the older ones to share. Her insight, which was very helpful to me, was that a lot of times, in communities such as this, the children are instructed not to share their things, because they don't get them back, and the families cannot afford to replace them. That makes sense, but what a sad thing to feel compelled to teach your children. While we American moms make a huge deal about sharing, our counter-parts in disadvantaged areas are teaching just the opposite. And I know for my children, there were penalties for not sharing. I can only imagine what a penalty might be for a Nicaraguan child who lost their stuff.  

 But I think that's not the whole story here. Because Katarin seemed to take it to another level.  Not only did she not want to share stuff, she didn't want to share us. 

She was literally the first one there every day, and was still hanging around each day as we left.  If we were seated, she was trying to get in our laps.  She was in our faces non-stop. It became really apparent that this little 3 year old just plain wanted attention.   Good attention, bad attention, she would take any kind of attention she could get. She got braver an braver as the week wore on. She liked putting the crayons in her mouth.  Since we were teaching about germs, I would ask her not to put them in her mouth. She would do it again, I would ask again. Then it got to the point that she would wait until I was looking at her, open her mouth really big, cock her head at me and slowly move the crayon to her mouth.  What a little toot!  Then, she got braver. She would poke us in the rear, or grab something away from another child, then when asked to give it back, turn around and stick her hiney out at us, and make us chase her.  

I chuckled on our way back to the drill sight several times that she was going to be famous some day. An actress, a politician, some sort of career that enjoys a lot of recognition. Because that was what this little girl was all about!

 Then, we witnessed something that explained a lot of why she craves attention. It was something that I think will haunt me for the rest of my life. 

Katarin fell into a ditch near the drill site. She and another child. Wow, those little three year old lungs can make some noise. She screamed bloody murder for a long time. See, she's going to be an actress, right?!?  But she didn't stop. It soon became obvious that she was really hurt. Her arm was not right. It looked twisted. Did she break it? Dislocate her elbow?

 The preacher happened to be at the drill site that day, and since he travels back and forth from Managua, he had a motorcycle with him. So he hops on his bike and goes to find Katarin's father, who was out working in a field. His response was "There's nothing I can do about it."  Stop the presses!  He said what?  Are you kidding me???  I was absolutely stunned. What even mediocre parent says that?  Your 3 year old is injured and in pain, and you can't do anything about it? Righteous indignation had NOTHING on me at that moment. And want to talk judgement?  I was all over that like white on rice!  But wait, it gets better!  The preacher goes and finds Grandpa. Grandpa agrees to take her to the doctor. OK, good. Things are looking up for little Katarin. Wrong!

 About 15 minutes later, I look up and she is at her house waiving at me.  I don't know about any of you, but can you get to your doctor, be seen, possibly x-rayed, and then get home, all in about 15 minutes?i

 So I go over and get her. She is very excited because she has a coke!  I walk her over to the area where we were doing our stuff with the kids. Theresa talked to her and asked her if she went to the doctor. She said yes, and the doctor said no. We didn't get that. She said her arm didn't hurt anymore. 

 But as she played, the team members noticed that she wasn't bending her arm, and her hand wasn't right. And her elbow just didn't look right. It was dislocated. 

Lauren and I tried to play the little game with her where you hold their hands and swing them. Our hope was that her little arm would go back in to place. (Yes, Lauren does have medical knowledge). As soon as we tried, she started crying ¡no puedo! (I can't!)

 So, essentially, dad did nothing, and grandpa bribed her with a coke. And then, she, A THREE YEAR OLD, wanted our attention so badly that she put that above the pain she was feeling and came back to play. 

 That was our last morning there. We had to leave, not knowing if she was going to get the treatment she needed. I will always wonder.  Did she?  If not, what are the long term affects?  Will she become even more disadvantaged because of a physical impairment?  Will she ever get the attention she so desperately craves?

 As a parent, I have done a lot of thinking about this.  My strong inclination is to judge - judge dad, judge grandpa - even mom!  But really - with all the people that we know are living in dad's household - did him being in that field make the difference between that family eating or going hungry that night. Would it have jeopardized the job that he needs just to keep his family from starving?  Did he feel a horrible sense of guilt and shame because he couldn't care for his daughter?

 Again, I will never know. I know that I would move heaven and earth to help my hurting child. But my earth and his earth are very different places. I just hope that he has faith or finds faith in Jesus Christ as his savior, so that we can all enjoy the same heaven. 

 

May my steps be worship. May my thoughts be praise. May my words bring honor to Your name. 

 

Getting to Know Rosa

 This is our new friend Rosa.  Cute kid right?  A little dirty?  Take a really good look at the picture.  Selfishly I don't want to be the only one who has the image of this little girl burned into my retinas.  I refer to her as the Poster Child for poverty.  I can see it, can't you?  The above picture, cropped so as to only show her. 

Rosa lives in the community where we were drilling the well.  In fact, Rosa's house is the one closest to the well.  There is a part of me, a really big part, that believes that that may be the only advantage this baby may ever have in her life.

Miss Rosa is two years old.  She has at LEAST 5 older siblings.  We think both the mom and dad live in her house - but not 100% sure about the dad.  We never saw him.  We think there were maybe a couple of other  adults living there, maybe, but again, not quite sure.  So, estimates of maybe 7 - 10 persons living in her house.  But her house was not like the 'rich' folks house that I pictured yesterday.  It is smaller - it is more poorly built - it makes the houses in the most disadvantaged areas in San Antonio look like palaces.

Rosa was ALWAYS with us - every day - every hour.  During those many days and hours, I saw her smile exactly twice.  Here goes Karen, exaggerating, right?  No, I promise you, I saw her smile twice.  I shoved my camera at someone (Emily maybe) to take the picture above, because when I bounced my knees and gave her a bumpy ride, we got this, the 2nd of Rosa's smiles.

We kinda thought that maybe she had a hearing deficit - because she rarely spoke either.  But I noticed her copying some of the kids who were walking down the path saying "Beep Beep", and I softly called her name a few times to see if she would respond, and she did.  Why doesn't she talk?  Most kids her age are have reached full magpie status.  They love to imitate and spout out all the things they have been taught...here it is, my 'aha' moment.

What has she been taught?  I only saw her mom with her once, and there was very little interaction.  And no smiles.  Who sits on the floor with Rosa with the board book teaching her her colors?  My guess is nobody.  I am not sure Rosa owns a book.  Does she have a See n Say teaching her that "The cow says Moo!"  Don't think so.  I believe that Rosa leaves her house every morning, and just wanders around.  Her older sister (who is a whopping 3 years old - whose intensely sad story you will hear later) kinda watches her.  Not in a supervisory way at all, more of just an awareness that she is with her.  Not enough to keep her from walking through the hot coals of the trash fire that is in the middle of the path, or falling into a ditch, or any of the other pitfalls that are all over the community.

And Rosa is REALLY REALLY dirty.  If you have read the blog, you have heard references to her.  She is the one that came to us the first day with caked green snot all in her nose and upper lip.  She is the one with literally colonies of lice in her hair - the one who got down on all fours and scratched the top of her head with the dirt.  Her mom bathed her one day, and she showed up with wet hair, and her scalp was bleeding in places, and scabbed over in others.  She has some kind of sores on her body, as do the other 3 siblings that we got to meet.   Notice how she looks in the picture above.  Now, realize that that picture was taken at about 8:30 in the morning.  That was her best for the day.  Those were the same clothes that she had worn the day before, and, I am assuming, slept in.

She walks around scratching herself constantly.  She scratches her head; she scratches her hiney and her private areas.  During one of our hygiene lessons, we were having the kids wash their faces and hands.  I personally used 6 Wet Ones on her, turned them completely brown, and then gave up.  Theresa Turner came in after me and used several more.  I am not sure we ever got just her hands and face clean, much less any of the rest of her.

So that is a little view of my Poster Child.  Does anyone brush her teeth, or will she be like so many other children with their teeth already rotted out by the age of 5?  Does she own a toothbrush?  If so, I am betting there is no toothpaste.  We know that she is bathed occasionally.  Does she have a bed?  And if so, does she have sheets?  And if so, do those sheets ever get washed?  Does she ever get read to?  Prayed with?  Tucked in and told that she is loved?  She had a few bruises, but it didn't look to me like she was battered.  But, she is neglected.  Whose fault is that?  Is she just part of the cycle?  Is she being raised like her mother before her?  Is mom doing her best?  Who knows.  I am not here to pass judgement, just to inform. 

I have another whole blog session coming up about her sister Katarin.  A story of a very sad event that we witnessed. 

My hope is that you realize that these little girls' stories, though probably amongst the most extreme of what we witnessed, are not unique.  There are literally millions of little Rosas out there.  The question is, what do we do about it?

May my steps be worship.  May my thoughts be praise.  May my words, bring honor to Your name.

If a Picture Paints a thousand words...

 The Start of the Project

Mixing the Bentonite - or the technical term - snot

Sale of the illegal peanuts.  The people run into the fields after the harvest and gather what the machines left.  If they are caught, the peanuts and the money are confiscated.

The infamous Latrine!

 

Pata, Pata, Pollo!

 

 

Arelis
Erlinda

Jason Antonio, Najeli, Eric

 

 Josh manning the rig - Jim doing the dirty work!

First Clean Water!

 

The Rich People's House

Proud Pump Papa

 

 

 

 

The plaque that was set into the concrete by the well

Rosa - one of only 2 times I saw her smile

 

Kids just being kids

!



 Our new friends, and their completed well

The Voices in My Head

Well, my intention was to use this blog as a travel journal.  Not that my feeble mind can't remember details, it's just that...um...OK - it really is that my feeble mind can't remember details.  And I knew that the details of this trip were going to be important.  That was a gross underestimation on my part.

And maybe it isn't so much in the details, but in the thoughts that those details have provoked.  So, this blog will continue on for a while.  Maybe a week, maybe a month - maybe longer...who knows.  But there is so much more that I need to process.  And so very many things that I don't want to forget.

All last night in bed, and all today, the voices in my head have been screaming at me.  'You need to talk about this!  You need to wax poetic about that!  You need to hop on your soapbox and share this with the world!"  So, I am going to use today's post to try to get some of those subjects written down so that I don't forget them, and I can silence the voices.  (OK, the voices are metaphorical, so all you people (Kristen shout out, lol) who think you can finally commit me are wrong!)

First, let me update you on our walking wounded.  Dan R started his post exposure rabies treatment.  Another example of the bravery that the members of this team showed.  He didn't whine, or complain, or make a big deal out of it.  He kept the focus on what we were there for, and not on him.  As far as Rob's foot goes, the X-rays show no broken bones.  So probably just a bad sprain.  He is a strong man.  The morning after he hurt it it was UGLY.  But he grabbed his work boots, stuffed his swollen painful toe into them and went out to work.  An injury like that would have put this girl down, I would have been finished for the trip.  But my strong brave guy shrugged it off and went right back at it. 

So now, we are all safely back in the US, back to our normal everyday lives.  I'm not so sure that my life will ever be normal again though.  So, the big question is - What do we do with it?  What is the new normal?

One of the catch phrases for the team is that we need time 'to process'.  I am already tired of saying that.  But it is the best way to describe it.  What we saw was so much bigger than any of us, or all of us put together for that fact.  So, as I continue to write this blog (my way of processing?) here are some of the things that I really want to talk about:

Rosa - the poster child
Katarin - Rosa's sister - a sad sad story
Sharing
Oxymorons
Judgment
Perspectives on Blessings
Gifts and Talents
Base Hits vs Home Runs
Waste
Nicaraguan Military

There are more things - maybe less because all of the above things could blur into each other.  I would love if  some folks took this journey with me.  But in order for me to process, I need to be brutally honest, and I tend to be frank in ways that some people might not like.  So if that isn't your cup of tea, I understand.  But I hope that what I write provokes something - thought, conversation, action, questions...but selfishly I hope that it provokes some answers, because right now, I have a lot of questions.

May my steps be worship, may my thoughts be praise, may my words bring honor to Your name.

It is finished

It's done. The pump is completed - the well has been dedicated - we have said our goodbyes. (Maybe you will see some pictures..maybe not)

Josh Zimmer is providing our driller perspective for today:

"Today was very humbling. To see the expressions of gratitude once the well began to produce water, it was overwhelming. We received comments of appreciation from some of the men of San Blas. But then one of the mothers was given an opportunity to speak...she had barely begun to heap God's blessings on us when her voice broke and I saw a genuine look of relief come over her face as she started to sob these tears of joy over God's answered prayers. I like to think I realized, maybe intellectually, what we were contributing to. But this was the first time I saw a glimpse of the emotion attached to what God had accomplished there."

Again, thanks to all my guest bloggers. I couldn't have done it without them.

And here is one more video from our documentarian (is that a word? If not I made it up...which someone once told me is a sign of psychosis) Dan Richardson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O2unkyuSm2g&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Dan has done a fabulous job of chronicling our trip! Look for us soon in a theater near you!


After we finished with the well dedication, the ladies of the village served us a huge lunch, which was so humbling. I cannot begin to explain the poverty from which they gave. They would never serve their families a meal like that. I can't quantify that it cost each family a weeks income or 10 days...but it was massive. Think about the daily income of your family. Now think about if you spent 2 days income on a meal for complete strangers. Now think about 5 days - a week? What kind of meal could you buy for a weeks salary? THAT is along the lines of the gift that these precious people gave us today. And we couldn't eat it all. No way. And the other thing that just kills me about that is that conventional wisdom at the table was that the leftovers were most likely thrown in a big pot and served again for dinner. Maybe you can't imagine spending a weeks income on a meal, but I am pretty sure that you can get a pretty good visual of eating a complete stranger's leftovers.

I am so very out of words. But I have one last story. I have a foot that gives me problems, and there is only one brand of shoe that I can wear that doesn't cause me problems, especially if I spend any time on my feet. The problem is that the are open-toe. They suggest that we wear closed toe shoes to the community. After the first day, I was in quite a bit of pain, so talked to Jorge about it. I got a special dispensation to wear my good shoes - my flip flops. Almost first thing in the morning this morning, I stepped in cow caca. (In Nicaragua, caca is a totally acceptable word, so since I am still here I plan to use it at will). So I am shuffling my feet, trying to rid myself of the cow caca (caca caca caca), and my shoe (actually the non-caca shoe) broke. The part that goes between your toes. Now, in the US, the shoes would have gone in the trash. But Santo grabbed my shoe, dug around in the his little tool box, and fixed my shoe! Good as new! I walked all over, played frisbee, just went about my day as if nothing ever happened. That is what our Nicaraguan friends do. When something is broken, they make it new, and continue on as if nothing ever happened. And isn't that what Christ does for us? We are broken, broken people. And when we come to him, he makes us new again. We are a new creation and we are forgiven as if nothing ever happened. Jesus is out there, waiting for us to see him. And in today's world sometimes it seems really hard to do so. But I have seen him a lot this week. In the children who trusted me and clung to me, just because I showed them a small tiny kindness. In a mother in a community who is always watching out for other children whose moms are out picking illegal peanuts for less than $1.50 a day. In the men and women who pushed themselves past their physical limits to help provide safe drinking water for their hurting brothers and sisters. In the women who tirelessly loved on filthy, dirty, snot, scab and lice covered children with total abandon. In the Facebook posts of my friends in the US who are praying and shedding tears over the senseless loss of life in that Connecticut school shooting this morning. And, in the hands of the man who took my dirty broken shoe today, and made it new.

Father God, just for today
Help me walk your narrow way.
Help me stand where I might fall.
Give me the strength to hear your call.

May my steps be worship.
May my thoughts be praise.
May my words bring honor to Your name.

Small Update - Big News

Got hold of Dr. Bob and he told us that in the US they usually wait 10 days before starting rabies treatments while the dog is observed. The bad news is that I don't get
to get to watch him cry like a sissy girl. The good news is that he can wait till he gets to the states and get care from his own doctor. So so happy for our brother Dan. I know that his beautiful wife has to be very relieved as well. God is good!

All is WELL!

Today, we saw the week's work come to completion. I just want to cry. I am so amazing in a crisis. I am strong, I am level headed, I am brave...then, after the crisis is over, in the still of the night when nobody is looking, I completely and totally breakdown and dissolve into a great big chocolatey mess. That is where I am right now. Not that this week was a crisis in typical fashion. But in ways, it kinda was. We all had to rise to levels we didn't know we had. We had to rise physically - the last four days were tough. And I feel really stupid saying that. We hygiene girls have NOTHING on the drill team. But for the last four days we have been outside, in 90 degree weather, from about 8 a.m. until about 4 p.m. We have inhaled dust all day. We have inhaled smoke all morning. (Because BFI doesn't visit this neck of the woods, trash is heaped into little piles at each household and burned every morning.). We have played with children who have boundless energy. The minute we pulled in to the village each morning, those little folks were ready for us, and as soon as we stepped out of the van, we needed to be on! And as silly as it sounds, trying to communicate with 40 or so little people in a language that you only pretend to speak is exhausting work! All that said, I cannot even imaging how tired our drillers are. But right now we have several walking wounded. Rob fell into a hole yesterday, and by the looks of things, may have a broken foot.  It is ugly, ugly, ugly!  (This about a man who usually has very sexy feet!)  And today, our dear brother Dan was bitten by a dog.  Rabies is always fatal, (less than 10 cases of symptomatic persons who have survived) so tomorrow Dan will be heading to begin the rabies treatment regimen.  Chances are good that he is not infected, but really, who would want to take that chance.  I plan to go along with him so that I can chronicle the event in video, and if he cries like a sissy girl, I will post it on YouTube for all to see. :-)

Then we needed to be strong emotionally. You feel like there is a special place in hell for you when you have to look at a 3 year old child and tell them that they can't drink out of your water bottle.  Or when you see their head covered in colonies of lice, and their scalp bleeding and covered in scabs.  Or when you have to take the ball (or crayons, or frisbees, or bubbles or bible story book, etc) away from anyone because it is time to pack up and go home, and if you leave it with them some older kid will probaly beat then up and take it away.  Or when you sit in a class and hear that of the 9 moms there, only 2 or 3 have toothpaste in their houses because, in their words, 'if I have money, I buy rice for my children'.  Or when you take a look at the whold group of children and know that any of them might be but one bacterium away from a fatal case of dysentery - something you have never even had to give a thought to as you raised your own children...The list goes on and on, but this week, we all needed to be strong, and we all needed to be brave.  And until today, I took it like a man!  And now that it is winding down, I have no strong or brave left.  I am not sad - I am just empty.  So, I sit in my room and sob and blog, hoping that I can convey all that this week has meant, and knowing without a doubt that I will fail miserably.

So, now that you have all had a great dose of Debbie Downer...I am going to try to explain the joy that comes with the title of this post.  This village now has clean safe drinking water!  All praise and glory to God in heaven - I pray so hard that this will mean so many good things for this community.  I posted a pic on my facebook of the first drops of clean water I saw come out of the pipe, but of course they are not posting for me here.  Such an amazing moment.  So very proud of our drill team for coming here, letting themselves be bossed around, spewed on, seared by the sun, taxed beyond their wildest dreams to give this gift to this comnunity in Jesus' name.  But, I have asked my husband, the one who heard God's calling to do this and led this amazing group of folks here have the last word about the well.  From Rob Anderson;

"Today was day 4 at the drill site. Due to a couple small issues on previous days we are now a little behind schedule. With freshly charged batteries we attempted to start the compressor to flush and develop the well. It did not start! So off went Adrian for batteries, but since they are so expensive he bought jumper cables...it worked! So the rest of the day was spent developing the well and cleaning up the work site. The schedule also allowed plenty of time to visit with the residents and play with the ninos! Late in the day we made the forms and set the pump head in place. We watched the local men, Santo, David, Jose mix concrete in a "volcano" on the ground...pretty cool. The highlight for me came when my team mates asked me to set the plaque. Observations: Jim McDaniel is a man worth knowing...an encouraging heart and a tireless worker. I am very out of shape (again) and vow to change this. I will never take any of the little things; water, health, home, clothes, vocation, air conditioning, and so on for granted! Happiness and joy can be found in any circumstance...even extreme poverty. Finally, I want to thank my Northside family for their generosity! I cannot begin to tell you the feelings that I experienced when I saw those words..."a cup of water in Jesus' name. This well donated by Northside Church of Christ!"

And since we had technical difficulties yesterday and didn't get to hear from Theresa Turner (a truly amazing teacher) here are her thoughts:

Today was Day 3 of our Living Water Mission trip. Our Hygiene team of 4 women have taught Hygiene lessons on germ transmission, dental hygiene, and nutrition as well as Bible stories that teach about the love that Christ has for everyone. The first day about 20 children that live in and around the Village where the well is being drilled attended our classes. Today we said "hasta mañana" (until tomorrow) to about 55 children. In addition to teaching, we spend 1-2 hours just playing with the children. The people of the village live in extreme poverty. Toys like balls, frisbees, and jump ropes as well as playdoh and bubbles provide excitement because of the rarity of these kinds of toys in the village. The children and parents that we have had the absolute privilege of spending 5 days with have touched my heart in so many ways. They greet us each morning lined up along the road before we even get out of the van. They enthusiastically offer to carry our supplies, backpacks, chairs, and anything else we have to carry. They put their hands in ours calling us "mama", "hermana" (sister), and "prima" (cousin). How blessed I am to have had the honor of spending time with these precious little ones - it's a week I will never forget."

I thank Rob, Theresa, and all the other guest bloggers for their help. And, special thanks to Dan for all his tech support and videos. Please enjoy a couple of more:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W0wTgj4JFQw&feature=youtube_gdata_player

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fm8br7Lp3LQ&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Tomorrow, we will finish up, and there will be a dedication ceremony at the site.  It is quite possible that Dan and I will not make it, so we will look to the others there to take lots of pictures and give lots of hugs for us.  So until, tomorrow:

May my steps be worship, may my thoughts be praise, may my words, bring honor to Your name. 

Our Batteries are Dead

I got a picture to post. I am really sad that I didn't get more to post, but I am glad that you got to see Rob running with the bulls!

Today, I am taking the coward's way out.  I am starting to not feel well, and I am mentally exhausted, so I am relying totally on guest bloggers.  First, hear from Kristen Zimmer, one of our hygiene members:

"The village that we go to is beyond poor. I have never been on a mission trip nor seen such poverty firsthand, and yet, I never, ever imagined that it would be like this. There is dirt everywhere, on everything. Rarely is there a child who is not filthy. It has been heartbreaking to see how this part of the world lives. But my heart smiles each morning as we are driving to the community because of the faces I know will greet us when we get there. There isn't a time when we don't have children following us, asking questions, wanting to play ball or frisbee, or carry something for us. One in particular, Juan Carlo, has forever touched my heart and I will always remember what this week meant for him and the other children. I praise God who chose me to be a part of this team, who is awesome by the way, to come here to fulfill His purpose and for the opportunity that will change this community's lives for generations to come."

Now, here are some impressions from Lauren Gibbins:

"

I haven't had time to fully process my feelings on all that's happened in Nicaragua so far, so writing this blog is hard for me... Here it goes...
In some ways, it's exactly what I expected.  It's hot and its rustic.  The people are poor.  The language barrier is great.  The kids love the simple things.
In other ways, I've been thrown curveball after curveball.  I have been shocked by their poverty.  What the village was like was one of the unknowns of this trip.  It turns out that this is one of the poorest communities they've done in this region.  The sight of such dirty children is heartbreaking.  The area is so dusty that even after bathing most end of filthy within minutes.  And did I mention the giant lice?!
But, on the flip side of that poverty, I've seen a joy in these people that you don't often see at home.  They're awed by the simple:  blowing bubbles, throwing a frisbee, a rousing game of "pata pata pollo." 
I lay awake early one morning wondering if these people had any hope of a better life.  Of course, clean water will make a huge difference for them: less sick days, more working days, more hours to do something other than collect water.  But I was thinking more of my own standard of living, which isn't necessarily "better."  It turns out that we can be just as happy without all the "stuff" my life is crowded with at home.  What a great lesson to learn that God blesses both the rich and the poor and that the "rich American" isn't necessarily better!"

Due to a technical problem, Theresa Turner's post did not arrive.  You will hear from her tomorrow.

Now, here is our driller perspective, from Dan Richardson:

"Today's work was by far the easiest we've had over these past three days, but I feel more tired than yesterday or the day before. Maybe it's the sun wearing me down. I am more used to the vitamin-D-burning illumination of fluorescent lighting. Or maybe it is because I slept poorly last night. We are all having a bit of a hard time getting well rested. Our room's air conditioner is one of the culprits as it is not quite adequate for the task it's been given.  Whatever the case may be, today we were blessed with good work, the joy of friendship, the laughter of children, and with success as well as some disappointment.

We finished the actual drilling yesterday so today we let bentonite (slimey water) flow through the hole to get the walls stabilized. We needed to drop the casing down into the borehole and if the walls were to collapse while we were doing that then we would have to start over almost from scratch.
Waiting for the walls to be conditioned by the flowing bentonite gave us an opportunity to visit the hygiene trainers and their group. It was wonderful to see the children laughing and playing and to see the training team enjoying that. The water well that we are preparing would have no meaning without the families who will use it, and the hygiene team is our deepest link to those families. They are here to inspire a deep appreciation for how important clean water is to a healthy family. If the hygiene team were not here, the we might just as well have stayed at home, too.
When it came time to insert the casing, I in my ignorance was totally confident that we would not have any problems sliding the 20 foot sections of  7" PVC pipe down the 7" borehole.  Pushing down the pipes turned out to require quite a lot of effort, with three men coordinating (ad-hoc) in a twisting and downward pushing motion.
On the fourth of 8 pipe sections, the pipe got stuck. We were unable to push it any further. Had the borehole collapsed under the pipe? If so we would have to pull up 80 feet of pipe and re-drill the hole!
Adrian, our guide on this journey, told us what was at stake. He said that we had to double up and give it everything we had, and to rotate the pipe clockwise at the same time. We got one more man on the job and redoubled our efforts--bearing down with whatever strength we could call upon, and twisting with whatever torque we could achieve on a 4" round PVC pipe.  The lord blessed us with success as we pushed through the unseen obstruction!
With the casing set we were ready to force air down into the well--air that would force water up from the bottom. This was the moment of truth. Would water shoot up out of the well or would we be disappointed? Slowly we descended the air piping into the well and prepared the compression fitting at the top. We connected a 20 foot section of pipe to the well's outlet to divert the (hopefully) gushing water out to the road.
With anticipation and with a huge 20 foot pipe hanging out over the village's main road, we started up the the giant air compressor. But as the Lord blessed us with success He also blessed us with a small setback--the battery in the compressor was dead and it wouldn't start. It was an anticlimactic end to a wonderful day.
Tomorrow, with fresh morning air, clean clothes, and rested bodies we will have our big moment. What does God have in store for this well, for these people?"

And finally, a couple of You Tube videos, courtesy of Tech Man Dan:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pu5GW1gWYX8&feature=youtube_gdata_player

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ntp72FXeSNE&feature=youtube_gdata_player

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4ouyyFrjMM&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Thank you friends, for listening.  As always,

May my steps be worship, may my thoughts be praise, may my word bring honor to Your name.

A Hot Time in Nicaragua

Hot tamale! We had been lulled in to a false sense of security. We were sweaty before our feet even hit the ground. I cannot even imagine how the poor drillers felt. But you will get a chance later to hear later from our guest blogger Deanna Mesa.

We had another uncomfortable moment regarding our role here. The deal is that the moms are supposed to come in the mornings and hear the lessons, and the children come in the afternoon. Well, on Monday, the moms didn't come. Much to our amazement, the in-country staff told the preacher that if the moms didn't come to class on Tuesday, we would stop drilling. That was really hard cheese to swallow. Yes, we get it. There needs to be buy in, there needs to be accountability...but seriously...our group has discussed this time and time again. We have NEVER seen nor could we ever have imagined conditions like our village folks live in. The NEED this well. They need their children to be healthy so that they can go to school and start to break the cycle of poverty. A lot of the women that we have witnessed work very hard and they have so little. Yesterday a truck came through the village buying big bags of peanuts. Cool, we thought - they have a source of income. Actually, what they have is an illegal source of income. What happens is the peanut farmers use machines to harvest. These village folks sneak into the fields and glean them of the peanuts they can find before the field owners send in their own pickers. This illegal. And can you imagine the backbreaking work of bending over and collection the left over peanuts into huge bags, than being paid $1.50 a day to do it? Illegally so that you can maybe have some food on your plate. And these folks are given this ultimatum. Take half your day off at your expense and listen to the rich well dressed Americans tell you what to do? I am sure they felt like they needed to put on their best clothes, make sure they were as clean as possible, make sure their hair was neat, force a smile, a smile which in some cases lacked several teeth, a smile which they really were not comfortable forcing... We found out that it was an empty threat, but the coercion factor still really bothered me. When we got there, again there was only one mom. But the preacher started going around and rounding some folks up, and we were able to begin class.

I really enjoyed my teaching time today. My subject matter was a little more adult, so I got to meet with the mothers only while the other team members played with the kids. My subject was (diarrhea), and the way to care for their children when it happens. It seems trivial to us, but to people who drink contaminated water, it is a life-threatening regular occurrence. We talked about an Oral Rehydration Solution that they can use. Many believe that when the kids get ill, that you should stop giving them water. We taught them differently. At the end, I asked for questions and was THRILLED when they actually asked questions! They asked great questions, and I felt like they really walked away with a good understanding of what I set out to teach.

Here is Deanna Mesa, with her drillers perspective:

Tuesday, day 2 of the drilling week.
I have learned a lot these past few days here in Nicaragua.
I struggle with things to say in this blog because I don't know how to put what I'm feeling into words. I have never really stopped to thank The Lord for safe, clean, running water. This morning was the very first day in my life to thank Jesus for the clean water I have. That is how I started my morning.
The drill team started working at 8am this morning. The bentonite was mixed, the mud started flowing, and we were off. We only had 45 more feet to drill to get to 160 feet. Everything seemed to be going smooth until a rock the size of an egg got caught underneath the frame of the screen (the screen keeps the bits of rocks from getting into the mud that is pushed into the drill). This caused the drilling to move a snails pace. We each had to take turns pulling rocks from the suction pump so the mud would flow. Sounds easy right, well its not. You would have to lay on your belly and stick your hands into a pit of mud to clean the screen constantly. From then on the word of the day was SUCTION! Over and over again. So there we were covered in dirty filth fighting with a pump as the sun beat down on us.
When lunch came around we had to take turns because we couldn't stop. So the wonderful hygiene team fixed our plates and we each took turns to eat lunch. We had tuna fish mixed with peppers and onions that was on top of white rice. Oh and some banana chips.
By the time we we're all done eating lunch we broke 160 feet. Hooray we did it. Well yes and no. You see after we hit the right depth we had to pull all the pipe out and start over with a larger bit. We started drilling again pipe after pipe with the popular word of the day SUCTION ringing in our ears. Finally at the end of the day we finished the days task. Once again we had to pull all the pipping out.
By then the other half of the Nicaragua team (aka the hygiene girls) came to the drill site and along with them came the kids. They are sweet to talk to and play with.
We got in the van and drove to our home for the week. There are a lot more things I would like to mention about the week but after 8 hours of hard labor I'm too tired to keep going. But I will say this.....The team that I am drilling with me have been so amazing. I am proud to know Rob, Kent, Dan, Josh, Randy, Emily and last but never least Jim. They are great family to have in Christ.
I will forever cherish this experience and am so blessed and thankful I am here.

I so appreciate Deanna taking the time to do this.

Since I have fallen asleep twice now while writing, I will sign off with another video from our friend Dan. Keep in mind that this is the ride home at the end of the day - and we had spent the whole day in the sun. Possibly not totally in our right minds.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5vs0gdIceXE&feature=youtube_gdata_player

May my steps be worship, may my thought be praise, may my words bring honor to Your Name

D (for drill) Day!!!

Wow, I have no idea how I am going to tackle the task of talking about today.  It was so big, and had so many facets - It may be a two day post.  (Especially if I fall asleeep in my laptop like I did last night!!!)

We started our day at 6:30 this morning with a devo.  Then, following breakfast, we headed out to the village at 8:00.  We arrived and had to be reminded about Nicaragua time.  We were ready to storm in with guns a blazin'!  But, Nicaragua time dictated that we chill and wait a little bit.  Eventually, after some waiting, some visiting, some more waiting...we got started.  I am part of the Hygiene Team - so I had very limited access to our drill team and would not presume to give you their impressions.  Today, Kent Grubb has graciously offered to give a drillers perspective - which I will include later.

This morning, Adrian read from a book that I wish I could quote, but Jorge has the book, and Adrian is gone, so I can't even tell you the name.  But the author takes you on a short journey, beginning at the start of your day.  You get up, brush your teeth, use the restroom, make some coffee, perhaps prepare breakfast for your family, shower, and get ready to go to your job.  Now, that is a lot to accomplish before 8 o'clock in the morning.  Now, add to that walking about a mile or so to get all of the water that you need for all of those things.  They say that the average family uses about 300 gallons a day.  Lets get very conservative here and say that you only need 10% of that to accomplish your morning tasks.  That is 30 gallons, or 240 pounds of water.  How long do you think that it would take you to walk to your water source, draw the water out of the water source, and then schlep it back to your house.  Not sure about most people, but this girl cannot carry anywhere close to that.  How many trips would it take?  How many hours would it take.  What time would I have to get up to accomplish all of that before I headed to my job?  That is a really simplistic illustration, but it is these folks reality.  And the harsher reality is that all that water they gather is contaminated with pesticides, bacteria, fecal matter...you get the picture.  So hearing all of that, we left in the appropriate frame of mind.  When we arrived, from the hygiene perspective, it was worse than we expected. 

There is just no word but dirty.  There is no grass.  Everything that takes place takes place in the dirt.  The children basically leave their homes and wander around the area, in the dirt.  Some have shoes, some don't.  But think about how dirty a child would be that played outside all day, NEVER washing their hands or faces.  Got that picture?  Ok, now add a runny nose to it.  And a scraped knee with the scab coming off.  Now, the part that you have been waiting for, add the lice.  And I am not talking a kid with an itchy scalp that we suspected might possibly have them.  I am talking a kid with COLONIES of lice in their hair.  I am not exagerating when I tell you that one little two year old (that spent all day wandering around unattended with the exception of her three year old sister) got down on her hands and knees and rubbed the top of her head back and forth across the dirt because it itched so bad. 

The first thing we did was walk around to the different families and invite the mothers and children to attend our hygiene classes.  Each home illustrated over and over the poverty that these people live in.  The nicest ones were cinder block.  No doors, no windows, no indoor toilet, no inside sink.  The peole who I kinda pegged as the 'wealthy' family, had a bed frame - but no matress, just a board and some blankets.  The not so wealthy families' homes consisted of a few pieces of corrugated tin leaning against each other.  Then we encounter the latrines.  They are outhouses.  The nicest ones have a cement floor.  The walls are sugar cane canes, and the roofs are tin.  They were kind enought to let us use the really nice one.  Of course, some of the little boys just walk over and pee where they feel like it.  And there were babies running around naked, or if they had underpants on, it was really only to cover their hineys, and once they do their business, it becomes part of the walking trail.  So, is it any wonder that their water source is contaminated??   I must tell you that the latrines were a major source of conversation among we hygiene types.  We REALLY did not want to go there - literally.  We plotted and planned and tried to figure out how we could avoid it.  On the way to the site, as the anxiety level rose, I suggested that maybe we should all head straight toward the latrines when we arrived at the village and just get it over with rather than dreading it (and holding it).  Nobody jumped on that bandwagon.  You willl be happy to know that we lived through the experience.  Not saying I am looking forward to it for tomorrow, but I did live to tell about it.

After we did our community walk, we went back to an open area to start our classes.  We were expecting to be teaching the adults - only one showed up.  But we had 19 kids, so we decided to do kid lessons.  GREAT decision.  The rest of the day was fabulous.  These kids were SO entertained by us silly Americans.  What I found amazing was how well behaved they were.  They sat and listened - and I am talking about little bitty kids here, and their mothers were nowhere in sight.  No authority figures whatsoever!  As a former helicopter parent, it makes me really stop and think if all that hovering I did was really necessary.  So far these kids here are turning out just fine.

We taught our lessons, colored pictures, blew bubbles, did the limbo, sang songs, and we taught them a game.  A childhood favorite in the U.S., they had never played Duck, Duck, Goose!  So, we decided to teach them.  We ran into a little snag when we discovered that none of us knew how to say 'goose' in Spanish.  So instead, we played Duck, Duck, Chicken!  It was riot.  Pato, Pato, Pollo! was a huge hit among these Nicaraguan children.  I can see it catching on all over the country!

It was really amazing to watch the hearts of my other hygiene members today.  I have to say that I am really really enjoying then all.  I have known Theresa Turner for a very long time, but Lauren Gibbins and Kristen Zimmer only a little while.  They are all stellar individuals.  Theresa is the only one of us who is fluent in Spanish, and having just that part of her has been awesome.  But if you have never seen her in action with children, you have really missed out.  She is so very gifted.  And the children know, regardless of what language they speak, that she is one of the good guys, and that she truly loves them.  Lauren Gibbins too is very gifted with children.  They bring out a whole different person in her.  There is a special smile and a look that she gets in her eye when she talks to these kids, that I have never seen with an adult (and really awesome dimples).  Kristen Zimmer is the one that I knew the least of the three before coming on the trip and I have had so much fun getting to know her better.  She is a KIND person, who loves children.  She works very hard at everything she does.  And she is FUNNY!  So much fun to be around.

The whole team has been fun to be around.  There is SO much laughter, and anyone who knows me knows that, to borrow a phrase from my favorite Elf, "Laughing is my favorite".  It is really really an amazing group of people.  There is so much more I need to talk about, but I need to save it for another day.  As previously promised, here is a segment from the drillers perspective.

Drilling began today a bit after 10:00. Our driller, Adrian, was delayed obtaining necessary items for drilling. We had a target time of 9:00 to start but the pause gave us the opportunity to walk back to the home where we had enjoyed the church gathering the day before. There we spoke briefly with the sister whose house it was, and she allowed us to use the latrine behind the house. She was doing laundry outside her house on a concrete sink and wash board.

At 10 Adrian began teaching us the rudiments of drilling a water well. The first stage is digging several small trenches leading to a pair of pits. Three men of the village church had dug the two five foot pits in an hour. We took some lengthier period to hack out our several shallow trenches of a half foot depth and several feet in length.

As some of us dug, Emily, Deanna, and Jim mixed Bentonite, a slick oatmeal-like substance - once it is mixed. They muscled 40 lbs sacks onto the lip of 55 gallon drums, then sifted the Bentonite powder slowly into the drums. At the same time time they shot water into the barrels from compressor powered pumps. Inevitably, the slurry erupted at moments, splattering the three of them.  Undeterred, they finished up three 55 gallon drums. The Bentonite is critical for mud drilling as it lifts the cuttings to the surface.

We then dumped the Bentonite into the pits and began drilling.  This is fairly physical labor, requiring lifting 5ft sections of pipe to be joined to the drillhead as the drill works further into the ground.

Adrian taught each member of the drill crew how to operate the drill. Some were naturals, others felt a conviction for other callings.

We are just inside the Pacific coastal area of Nicaragua. Jorge, the local Living Water director,  warned us that the sun would be quite draining. We were very blessed today to have nice cloud cover as well as a very pleasant breeze.

At lunch, we had a sandwich, some chips, and Gatorade. Several pigs trotted by, with an eye toward anything that might have been dropped.  Several showed mild irritation earlier in the day in their wallows along the road threading through the middle of the pueblo.

When the drill bit stalled about an hour after lunch, Adrian had us pull all 115ft of pipe from the hole. This requires breaking the grip of the threads on the successive lengths of pipe with a three foot pipe wrench.  Each section must be reloaded into the trailer so it is ready to be reused.  Once the entire pipe length was out, Adrian attached a new bit, while Jorge cleared the bit. As each length came off, water shot from the joint in the pipe saturating the three or four drill crew working to break loose the pipe.

At the end of the day, the hole was 115 ft. Adrian tells us we will likely have good water at 160.

Thanks Kent, I really appreciate it. 

Unfortunately, my pictures won't post.  I will look for another option for posting pictures at another time. However, our tech guru Dan has posted a sample video to You Tube.  Here is the link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vd5LSNUyLBI&feature=youtube_gdata_player

In the meantime, please continue praying for us.  As for me:

May my steps be worship, may my thoughts be praise, may my words bring honor to Your name.

Sunday - Day of Worship

Well, this morning, I learned that hot showers are not a Nicaraguan thing;Wasn't sure that I would survive it, but I did.

Breakfast was wonderful. Eggs, toast, cereal, and LOTS of fruit. Our cooks, Larissa and Aylinda are spoiling us. After breakfast, we headed out to meet the people for whom we will be drilling the well. The well will be in an area that has about 15 families, and a church. We will be drilling very near the church so many people will benefit from it.

We attended their Sunday morning worship. It was very cool. They literally had everyone participate in the service. The men, women and children all read scripture, sang and prayed. We could only pick up a few words, but their love for God was very apparent. We sang a couple of songs in English for them, and then sang Happy Birthday to Rob. Today was his 50th birthday! It was very touching when the preacher read a special blessing for him from Numbers 6. You know how there is always one certain person that catches your attention first - and seems to keep it?  For me that was Dante.  Dante has the brightest most sincere smile, warm eyes, and at maybe 8 or 9 years old, posesses a joy in the Lord that is way beyond his years.We said hello to many people, but werent given that chance to get to know them.  That will come as the week progresses.

There were several uncomfortable moments as we were leaving. First, Adrian tapped us on the shoulders in the middle of someone's scripture reading and told us it was time to leave. We didn't get to say goodbye or anything. We just got up and left. We all felt very uncomfortable. I felt like we had just been very rude and disrespectful of them as people, and of their worship service. It got even a little worse when Adrian told us that we were waiting for them to get us a chicken for dinner! HOLD IT!!! We are waiting for the people who have nothing to give us a chicken?? Really?? People whose houses consist of various sizes of corrugated tin leaning on each other were going to feed us fat Americans? (Not all of us are literally fat, I use that word figuratively.  I was mortified. AND I felt really bad for the chicken. They caught him, tied his legs together, and put him in the van to ride home with us. We really got no explanation as to why we were taking their chicken, so left to our own devices we decided that possibly that was about the community 'contributing' in some way to the well project, and that we would be offended if we didn't take it. So we accepted it - but it still really bothers me!

We came back to the compound and had lunch. We had sautéed chicken over lettuce. They served a side salad of peppers, onions, carrots etc with sweet vinegar dressing. It was different but good.

Then we got out first curve ball. The hygiene team met with the hygiene coordinator. As we started discussing the plans for the week, it quickly became apparent that we had planned for a bunch of things that weren't going to happen, and hadn't planned at all for some things that were going to happen. Since there are several small communities in the area, some of the folks have been coming to the hygiene/bible lessons at the other well sites, and therefore have seen lots of the lessons and done most of the crafts.  So, we began to brainstorm as to how we could, with very limited time and resources come up with some new special crafts, especially for the mothers.  Now, in the US we would just pull up our Pinterest account, find some cutey pie things, then run to Hobby Lobby.  Not so much here.  So we started thinking, started realizing what little we had to work with, then started panicking!  Our anxiety level soared. It is funny how different people handle situations, and we all seemed to react diferently.  It actually became a little easier after Scarlett left, becuase we could brainstorm with each other a little more quickly.  We came up with some passable ideas, and began to plan them out.  Our super organizers, (Lauren, Kristen and Theresa) got in the craft closet and made quick work of it.  It is now a thing of beaty!  Once we had some organization and a plan, things seemed to go a little more smoothly, at least mechanically.  Emotionally we weren't there.  We alternated between encouraging words, words of worry, and words of frustration.  We have been preparing for this, some of us for over a year,  We want so badly for it to be perfect, and it was eating our lunches!  Our very wise friend Deanna suggested that we 4 go in a room and pray about it,  We didn't do it, we chatted on and on about our what ifs and how manys,  the whys and the wherefores, but we did not pray.  Deanna mentioned a few more times before we really heard her.  Silly us.  He was just waiting for us to come to him and ask for the things that we needed.  We finally prayed, Theresa, Deanna, Kristen, Emily, myself, and Lauren.  Not just the four hygiene people, but our sisters on the drill team.  Deanna knew what we needed to do, and continued to encourage us to do it.  What a blessing to have someone keep their wise head while others around her were losing theirs. Now, it may sound trivial that we didn't have some silly crafts planned,but to us, it was a serious blow.  My entire work on this mission trip has been based on the fact that I am a Colossians 3:23 girl.  'For whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as if working for the Lord, not for men.  I expected these ladies in this village to get my A-game, the best of my best.  Having to change it at the last minute with no resources made me feel like I would be giving then second best.  But, as Theresa pointed out, we are not in control.  God is,  There is nothing that is too big for him - certainly not a craft lesson.,  So we now are remembering that God works for the good of those who love him.  And I gotta say, this is a pretty amazing group of God lovers.  And if we go in to that village tomorrow, and just smile, wave, shake hands, hug...if we truly go in and LOVE on those people with the love of the Lord - there is no limit to the glory that will be brought to God.

There is way more to tell about our day, but I have fallen asleep twice while writing.  There will be more later, but I will leave you with a few pictures.

Below, you will see our group in front of Lake Cosibolca.  It was a beautiful area in Downtown Granada, about 20 minutes drive from our compound.  And below that, I couldn't resist, is my new best friend Max.  They tell us we are not allowed to touch the dogs in the village, so I gotta get my dog lovin' in while I am in the compound.

Thank you all who are reading and supporting us with your prayers.  We know that God is hearing your prayers, and has great things planned for us!

May my steps be worship, may my thought be praise, may my words bring honor to Your name.

Go!

(There was a picture here.  It disappeared.  I will repost later.  ugh)

It's go day!  Don't you think we all look great at 5:30 in the morning? 

Our day started off great.  Everyone was on time, no overweight bags...smooth sailing.  All flights were on time, and we were in Managua by lunch time.  Everyone made it through immigration, customs...right on target.

The Managua airport was easy to navigate, and we found Adrian,one of our in-country drill leaders right away.  Our first taste of 'out of our comfort zone' came when a young boy - maybe 12 or 13 years old came up to our van.  Some of us thought that he had come with Adrian as a helper.  That was not the case.  He kept trying to grab our suitcases out of our hands.  Adrian told him no.  It became obvious that he had some sort of mental disability (or pretended well).  The guys finished loading the luggage on the top of the van, but our little friend was persistant.  He kept grunting at us, and rubbing his fingers together asking for money.  Every single one of us wanted to give him just a little I think.  But we have been warned over and over not to give to beggars - that it usually leads to no good.  So we just sat in the van feeling like a bunch of heels.  The worst part was when he put his hands and face up against the glass and looked in.  Ugh.  Right through the heart!

As we drove through Managua, every time we would stop at a stop light, the driver would turn on his windshield wipers.  We learned that that was becuase there are people waiting at every light that want to wash your windows for money.  Turning on the wipers was supposed to discourage them.  For the most part it worked.  But there was one particular window washer who was not disuaded by this tactic.  He proceeded to try to wash the windshield anyway.  What he ended up doing was lifting the wiper away from the windshield.  Our driver motioned for him to fix it, and he ignored him.  Then the driver rolled down the window and asked him to fix it.  The guy said give me money.  The drive said no.  So the guy walked away with a not so friendly gesture, and left our windshield wiper askew.  We had to find a spot to pullover so he could stop and fix it,.  Right then, it became obvious that we were not in Kansas any more.  My immediate knee-jerk response was that I wouldn't make it here on my own.  No way, no how.

Adrian took us to a place called Tip Top for lunch.  We all had chicken of some sort.  It was very very good!  After that, we headed on the 45 minute drive to Granada, where our compound is.  The drive once again pointed out the differences between the States and other countries.  We could not believe the number of people who were walking - some on the sides of the roads, some in the middle of the roads, but all FRIGHTENINGLY close to the traffic that was speeding by.  Deanna and I kept gasping and saying 'Did you see that?'  One of the things that struck Lauren was that one minute you would be driving by a row of houses that literally only consisted of pieces of corrugated tin leaning aganst each other, and the next minute you would be driving by a nice looking shopping mall.  The contrast was striking.

When we arrived at the compound, I think we were all very surprised.  It is VERY nice.  Beautifully landscaped, lovely architecture, complete with two armed guards.  EEK!  Maybe that is something that you all are used to, but it's pretty much a first for me!  We met Jorge, and I was again surprised.  Born and raised in the states. (Michigan of all places!  And yes, he bleeds Blue!  I told him that we were Buckeyes and we deciede immediately to try to put our differences aside for the good of the people.)   I was expecting that he would speak English, but still have some of the language barrier issues.  Instead, we can talk college football!  My most pleasant surprise was Max.  A huge beautiful brindle Boxer.  He immediately recognized me as a Boxer softie and his new best friend.  I plan on doing some serious hanging out with Max in the days to come.

We had a short meeting, and Jorge laid down the house rules.  All of us sat there thinking - really?  How can I tell that kid no when he asks me for something I have?  How can I tell that lady that no, I cannot eat the treat that she has brought me, that probably cost her an embarassingly high percentage of her income?  How can I refuse any of these people anything.  THE people.  The people that we came to help.  The people that we have been praying for for the better part of the year.  The people that, more than anything, we want to shower with God's love.  Not easy stuff to swallow.  But our logical sides know that he is right.  We just all dread the moment when we have to cross one of those bridges.

We then got to hang out for a while, and then we were served dinner.  YUM!  I can see why Rita on the LWI staff said that she gained 10 pounds when she came.  Larissa and her crew make a mean fried rice.  And they had a Nicaraguan version of Pico de Gallo that was out of this world!  We never quite figured out what we drank with dinner.  It was a sweet punch - I tasted cucumber or watermelon rind.  Adrien thought it was something with Grenadine..but we are still not sure what it was called. 

After dinner, some of the gang played Bananagrams.  I didn't get to play, because I am having technical problems with the blog.  The IE on Rob's laptop isn't a version that is supported, so there are functionality issues.  So we had to e-mail me the pictures, open them up and post them from Dan's tablet, then reopen it on Rob's laptop - on which I have no ability to format, spell check - any of those handy things that are going to help me out.  But it's ok.  I will post a few pictures each day, and write as well as I can, and go back and edit after we get back.  For those of you who are my Facebook friends, I can post to that fairly easily.

So it is now 9:29, and most everyone has headed to bed. I feel like I have typed forever and barely scratched the surface.  I too am tired and want to turn in.  For my English teacher friends, I need a pass on this one.  I am typing on a tiny keyboard, I have no spell check, and I am too tired to proof-read.  Check back in a few weeks, and I promise that I will go in and fix the glaring errors.

Good night friends - I hope that you will join me in praying for the days to come!



Dan Captures a moving picture.  He captions it "On a mission...the intense level of hardship and trauma we are willing to indure to lift up the impoverished"