Something on a bit lighter note…last week one of the guys was sick so I took him into our local clinic.  He needed an injection of something or other, so I left to go to the pharmacy to buy what we needed.  As I was walking through another part of emegency, there was a young guy of about eight or nine lying on his stomach on a bed, with his pants down around his knees, and his butt in the air.  A nurse was giving him a needle, and his body was shaking violently all over.  I was just waiting for him to start wailing.  As I walked past, the nurse asked him if he was okay, and he replied,

“Yes…but it TICKLES!” 

Everyone within hearing distance started laughing.  It was pretty funny.  I saw him out in the waiting area afterwards, and he was as happy as anything.  Man, you have to appreciate that kind of physiology. 

One other thing…many of you have been asking about Jorge, and how he’s been doing.  For those of you who don’t know, Jorge is one of the pastors in our church.  He was involved in a very bad car accident with his wife in January.  You can read more here, here and here if you want.  I also posted some video of him preaching in church here.  And my favourite moment in the story was here.

At any rate, he’s been in church these past two Sundays, which has been great.  He doesn’t completely look himself…he’s still having problems with his stomach and eating, and you can tell.  He’s very, very skinny.  I’m not completely sure I would have recognized him if I just saw him on the streets.  His left arm and shoulder are still in a cast, and the scars on his head are pretty prominent.  BUT…really, he’s doing well, all things considered.  Two months ago he nearly died, so where he’s at now is still a miracle!  When I talked to him, he seemed in pretty good spirits.  I think he’s a bit furstrated that he’s not recovering faster, but that’s kind of his personality.  He’s not much of a sit here and do nothing kind of guy.

One of the young families came in while we were talking, and both their little kids were like, “TIO! TIO!” (Uncle) when they saw him, with big smiles on their faces.  That definitely put a smile on his fact too.  =)     

If you’d still like to help him and his wife out with their medical expenses (which were significant), just let me know and I’ll get the money to them.

Thanks for praying for us!  Enjoy the spring weather I hear we’re having in Saskatchewan these days.  I say “we” out of a sense of shared comradery even though I haven’t experienced the cold in four years… =)

PS  Two of the guys just came into my room to get their bus fare to leave for classes.  All I can say (gasping) is that guys here are really into the cologne.  Wow.
 
   

Sadly this weekend, Jose Miguel (one of the new guys living with us) lost his mom. She died unexpectedly on Friday night. He went to see the family on Saturday and found out what had happened. He came back early Sunday morning to tell me and to ask if he could borrow some money to help cover funeral expenses.

Obviously he was pretty emotional. Moms are alway special, but in Latin culture that’s even more so. Mothers are held in special esteem here. Add to that, the fact that Jose Miguel’s father works in another province and only comes home on occasion (usually with months in between visits), and his relationship with his mother becomes even more important.

In the afternoon, we drove out to where Jose Miguel lives (in a town a couple of hours north of the city). Isabel and three of the guys went with us. I was glad to have Isabel with me. I’ve never been to a funeral here, and I was a bit nervous about doing something wrong. And it was just nice to have her there. I could tell that Jose Miguel really appreciated having the guys with him too.

As a side note, it was a beautiful drive. The area north of the city reminds me a lot of Saskatchewan. It’s flat and a lot more open than the area south of the city, where the boy’s home is. Rather than building right up against the highway like they do in some areas, in this area, houses and farms are built back off the main road…more like they are at home.

I was explaining this to Isabel, and I said that, for the most part, it felt like home. She asked me, “Except for?” My response? “Uh…palm trees and sugar cane.” Of which there were a lot at that moment. That made her laugh. So yea…not exactly Saskatchewan…

The family told Jose Miguel that the funeral would be at 5 PM. Unfortunately when we arrived at 3 PM, we discovered that they’d decided to change the time, and the funeral had been held in the morning. Jose Miguel was sad but he handled the news well enough. I’m not sure that funerals hold the same significance here as they do in North America. At any rate, we went to the cemetery and found his mom’s grave sight. We prayed together, and I could see it was emotional for some of the other guys as well. Not only because they’re friends of Jose Miguel, but also, I think, because it brings up memories of their own losses.

Something that was especially difficult for Jose Miguel was that his mom was asking for him before she died, and he wasn’t able to be there. As well, along with most of the guys living here, Jose Miguel has a difficult past. He’s made some bad choices. His mom wasn’t sure she could trust him when he said he was living with me and studying. She was convinced he’d gone back to the streets. So it was hard for him to realize that she’d died thinking that, and that she wouldn’t be able to see him graduate and know that his life was changing. I tried to encourage him by explaining that parents sometimes say things because they’re worried for us. I’m sure she saw the changes in him…she was just concerned for his future.

Later when we spoke to the family, they expressed the same sentiment. That they hadn’t been convinced either that he was telling them the truth about where he was living. So I was glad to meet them and assure them that Jose Miguel is, in fact, studying, and doing very well. They seemed relieved to know that.

I hadn’t realized how poor Jose Miguel’s family is, until we visited his house. It’s basically just square building with planks for walls and a thatched roof. I’m not even sure wether they had running water or electricity. When we arrived, some neighbours were cooking a meal for the family. They told us everyone was down by the river. So we went looking for them.

This was something that was interesting to me. The reason they were at the river (besides wanting to spend time together as a family), was to burn Jose Miguel’s mom’s bed…along with the mattress and her clothes. Isabel told me that’s common here (with Catholic families). I imagine it has spiritual significance to them, but I was wondering if maybe it didn’t originate for health reasons. If someone died from a contagious disease, it would make sense to get rid of everything they owned. At any rate, it was a bit strange at first, watching her bed and possessions burn. But for me it got more interesting the longer I thought about it.

I’m glad we were able to be there for Jose Miguel on Sunday. I’ve no doubt that he has some difficult days ahead of him. But knowing that he’s not alone, but that he’s a part of a community…of a family…that held significance for him. Please pray for Jose Miguel. In the past, I know his first instinct would have been to turn to drugs or alcohol to deal with this pain. It’s encouraging to see God working in him and to hear him acknowledge that it’s only through Christ that he’ll find healing. I’ve no doubt that Satan will attempt to use his pain and sorrow against him…that the drugs and alcohol will be a temptation. But I can see the desire of his heart is to be faithful and obedient….and that’s good to see.
  

Two weeks ago, I came across a copy of a letter I’d sent to a friend in Canada a couple of years ago. In it I described a dream God had given me to open a new home in Santa Cruz. It would be a place where guys from the streets could continue their studies at a post-secondary level, after graduating from high school. I wrote about what I imagined this home would look like, and what I hoped to see happen in the lives of the guys who lived there. But I stressed to her that it was just a dream…just something I was thinking about. I had no idea how I would ever come up with the funding to open the kind of place I imagined.

The next day, after reading that letter, Isabel reminded me that it was March 1^st, exactly one year from the first night the guys and I slept in the house. As I stood in the middle of such a tangible example of God’s faithfulness, and realized how much had happened in the past year and how all the dreams God had given me had come to pass…well, it was a good moment….

I want to tell you a little bit about one of the ways God blessed us this past year.  In my last post, I mentioned Paul and Cheryl. Just over a year ago, Cheryl contacted me and told me that a group of teenagers from her church wanted to apply for a grant my Bible college was giving away at their annual youth conference. She wanted to know if I had a project I needed funding for.

Did I have a project I needed funding for?! Ha. At the time, I was just weeks away from eight guys moving in. I sort imagined they expected to have beds to sleep in when they got here. Somehow it the rush of trying to come up with the money for the house, I hadn’t completely thought through how I was going to furnish the place.

As I wrote out a list for Cheryl, of everything we needed to buy, I realized just how deep my hole was. I had visions of us sleeping on the floor and sharing the same six plates that I already owned. I had no idea what I was going to do…

But God had just miraculously provided the money we needed for the house (thousands more than I had originally thought I’d have), so why would He give us such a great place without having a plan to furnish it. Just because I hadn’t thought ahead, didn’t mean that He hadn’t. Before I even knew I had a problem, God placed the desire to help us in the hearts of this group of young people. They applied for the grant, and within an hour of the decision being made (before Cheryl could even write me to let me know what happened), my e-mail box was filled with letters of congratulations from people who’d already heard we’d won. Word travels fast in Saskatchewan…

Let me just say…dropping $4000 in a week is kind of fun… =) I’d never done anything like that before…so you can imagine how my guys felt. It was a bit complicated trying to keep track of what we’d already purchased and what we still needed. We made a few trips back to the market as we realized what we hadn’t bought yet. It’s a big job setting up a household…you don’t really realize everything you use from day to day until you don’t have it.

It was cool to see God working in the hearts of people here as well. When they heard what we were doing, people we didn’t even know gave us some great deals. Of course it didn’t hurt that I was buying eight of most things (beds, dressers, matrasses, sheets, pillows, blankets, etc.). Along with that, kitchen appliances, living and dining room sets, desks, shelves, tables, dishes, pots and pans, silverware…you get the idea. It did give me a bit of buying power. We even bought house plants….

Eventually we rented trucks and hauled everything home and got it squared away. At moments it was pretty funny setting up house (have you ever picked out curtain material with an ex-street kid? They’re surprisingly particular…). The guys learned how to use a microwave and washing machine and I learned that I didn’t need as much personal space as I thought I did. I also learned that no matter how many times you explain, some people will never understand the concept of Teflon. All my nice pans are now Teflon-less since none of the guys ever listened to my “Don’t use metal spoons to stir the pots!” sermon. It’s still a bit of a sore spot…

Of course a year later, we’re all still learning things. I explained it to one of the guys the other day actually. It’s one of the benefits (and challenges) of living in community. To have the opportunity to learn to give and sacrifice for others and to not always think of yourself first. To discover and use the gifts and abilities that God has given you. To see your own weakness and struggles and to learn to receive the help you need to overcome those things…both from your brothers and from God.

These things along with about a hundred others…

There are so many details in this story that I think about and wish I had the time to share with you. Little things that God did to demonstrate His love and care for us. Come down to visit sometime and I’ll take you out for coffee and talk your ear off about it. It’s pretty cool… One of my favourite parts of this story is that, after they helped us win the money, that youth group from Caronport decided to come down here and check things out for themselves (which I highly recommend by the way!). We were able to celebrate Christmas with them and my guys were able to get to know them. I can’t begin to tell you what a great time we had, and what a blessing they were to us! (Thanks Guys!!) We’re looking forward to their return! Next Christmas right?!

The following video is something I made to say thanks to Youth Quake (the youth conference that gave us the grant money) and to the team from Caronport who made it possible. Unfortunately, thanks to the wonders of technology, it didn’t make it to Canada in time for Youth Quake. So I thought I’d post it here. The quality isn’t great (thanks YouTube), but you’ll get the idea. It’s only a couple of minutes long, but hopefully it gives you a glimpse of this past year.

Once again (and I can’t say this enough), thanks again to everyone who’s been a part of this ministry. Thank you for praying and for giving and for encouraging us! We appreciate it!   

Enjoy the video. It’s two minutes long and took twelve hours to upload to YouTube. I love my internet provider…
 

So we’re going to back up for a moment and talk about Christmas. I’ve been on my friends Paul and Cheryl to come visit me since about the second day I got here. They’re two of my oldest friends (in Cheryl’s case that true in a couple of ways…). Our friendships date all the way back to high school and Bible college. Anyhow, finally this past year they decided to bring a group of teenagers from their church (along with their whole family and two of my sisters) down to help out for Christmas.

My friend Corina’s ministry “El Jordan” (they work with families trying to come off the streets) prepares a Christmas dinner every Christmas Eve for the kids and adults who live on the streets. These past couple of years they’ve prepared and delivered nearly 5,000 individually wrapped meals (beef, pork, chicken, rice, yucca, potato) along with a gift bag for each person. Being that I have a truck, I’ve spent the past couple of Decembers hauling ovens/freezers/giant ten foot bags of Fruit Loopy snack food they have here (every year I try to remember to bring my camera on the days I haul the Fruit Loops…and every year I forget. Just try to imagine eight or nine, ten foot long bags towering over my truck. We make sure they’re well strapped in…).

This year the group from Canada (Caronport, Sk) arrived just in time to help cook, prepare the packaged meals and distribute them. The following is an excerpt from the letter Corina sent out in January…

“Can you imagine how many hands come togther to make this happen? We made up about 4,800 little gift bads…cooked 900 pounds of rice… 500 chickens… 800 kilos of port… 1100 pounds of potatoes… 30 some stalks of frying bananas… 125 round roasts… To peal the potatoes, prepare the pork, cook the rice, bake the meat, and prepare everything else, we had a group all the way from Caronport, Saskatchewan to help us….along side of people from churches, from the streets, kid’s homes, neighbours, volunteers and students… Wow…”

It is pretty amazing to have the chance to be a part of this. I enjoy it every year. Having lived in Santa Cruz for the past four years, I still find my eyes opened again to the needs and suffering that people experience here.

I figured the best way to share the experience would be to show you some pictures….

Assembly line preparing the meals…

The answer to the age old question, “Where’s the beef?!”

Even after a long day of work, there were lots of smiling faces…

Arriving at our first location…this was a field where some
of the worst drug addicts in the city lived…

Passing out meals and glasses of juice (which, for some reason, was a big dea!).
Along with their meal, each person got a little gift bag with some candy and
a couple of small wrapped gifts they could open…

 
Meeting Daniel was a highlight for me.  His hand was cut and infected, so I pulled out
the first-aid kit I keep in my truck, and Paul and I cleaned and bandaged the wound. 
We talked with him for awhile, and it was obvious that this young guy hadn’t spent
his entire life on the streets (he had an education and spoke a bit of English). 
He was a polite, soft-hearted kid…and my heart was really saddened for him. 

It just makes me wonder what’s happened in his life to bring him to this point…

I’ll let Corina exlain about the next place we went…

“Years ago, I had been warned away from a wooded area…  The person I had gone looking
for begged me to please never come back… “Melena”, the feared man in charge, didn’t like
people just coming in… too many bad things could happen to me…  so I never went back… but
I’ve often thought about those addicts, hidden away in those bushes… unseen by society… in
their own dark world…  Now, this Christmas Marco was able to go there with a group of
young people from our church and from
Canada… “

Our last location was downtown close by the old bus terminal
where prostitutes, glue sniffers and street kids hang out…

While we waited for people to gather, a youth group from a local church
entertained the crowd with skits and music…

There were lots of smiling, happy faces…

Then we handed out the meals.  Corina describes the situation…

“After all the serving was done at El Jordan, I went with a group of people … 
I had “ordered” 50 plates… but in the end there were 20 extra, left over from another area
where the police had already shooed the street people away… When we arrived there were
only a few people gathered… but word spreads fast, and soon a crowd formed…
Guess how many people there were?  71…  Anibal, the father of the very first baby Corina,
came by at the very end… and I think he was the only one that didn’t get any food…”

Heidi with one of the prostitute ladies she knows, and her new born baby…

A few more smiling faces…

“Christmas on the Streets” remains one of my favourite things I do here.  It’s an opportunity to demonstrate the unconditional love of Christ to a people who have seldom, if ever, received love of any kind.

I’m going to sign off with the last part of Corina’s letter….

“My rounds were done…  “Christmas on the Streets” was over… I dropped my companions off at their houses… It was 10 p.m. and I was ready for bed after being up and at it for two full days and a night…  BUT… I had three plates left over from the meals I had “ordered” for the families on the outskirts…

Maybe I’d find someone along the way to give them to… but no one really “stuck out”…  Lots of people were hanging around the round-abouts… but they always get showered with little presents and food at Christmas time by people who are trying to appease their consciences or do their “good deed” for the season…

 

I considered just going home to bed… It was justifiable… I had worked long enough…  But then the three plates of food would go bad…  They were for someone…  But who???

 

I sighed and turned away from home towards the market…  There’d be someone there…

 

…but the market was filled with people… the traffic was horrible… and I definitely didn’t feel like getting stuck in the middle of it…

 

I thought… “Well, I tried.”  As I turned towards home… I saw a lady walking alone…with a huge bundle on her back…  Maybe she was the one!

 

I got out of the truck and when she looked up at me I was taken aback… She had a very soft looking face… not like a suffering, hungry face at all… This lady didn’t need those meals!!!  She might even be offended by the offer!!!  …but it was too late to retreat… “Ummm…  I have some meals that I don’t want to go to waste… I wondered if you might want one… or know someone who might need them?”

 

The lady’s eyes softened even more… and looked at me almost incredulously… but not offended in the least…  I could barely believe her response… “God sent you…” … “The Father knows when one of His children is hungry…”  She was on her way home that Christmas night… tired… hungry… a lady who looks after two children that hang out in the market…  If God sees and cares for a sparrow that falls to the ground… how much more does He care for us? 

 

Enough to send us a reminder of His love and care for us…”
  

Tomorrow I’ll have a post about “Christmas on the Streets” as well as some pictures. But until then, to keep everyone entertained, I thought I’d share the experience I had today.

Remember my dumb car alarm? Well…we’ve continued to wage our little Cold War. Mostly it’s been a stalemate, with no one really being able to come out victorious. Today however, car alarm came close. He didn’t win the war…but he definitely won the battle. Even though he’s the enemy, I’m man enough to admit that I was kind of impressed with his ingenuity and ability to pull off such a gutsy manoeuver…

I had my physiotherapy this afternoon at 4:30…just as rush hour traffic was starting. As well, they’re re-paving the first ring, so traffic was being rerouted and was even worse than normal. I needed to stop at the bank to get money to pay for my physio, and because of the traffic situation, I was already late. Also, because of the time of day, there were no places to park anywhere near the bank. I think this is what they mean when they talk about a perfect storm. So I did something I vowed I would never do here in Bolivia…

I double parked.

I’ve mentioned this before, but people double park here all the time. It drives me crazy. Especially downtown. It’s all one way streets, and the lanes are already so narrow you can barely keep two rows of traffic moving. Then suddenly the guy in front of you stops, hits his hazards (like that makes it okay)…and hops out of his car. You’re too close to him to be able to go around, and you can’t back up…so you’re stuck there until he comes back. It’s agitating beyond belief.

But today…in a moment of weakness, I stopped in front of the bank…hit my hazards…blocked two other vehicles in their parking spaces…and double parked. I’ve no doubt that car alarm had been waiting for just such a moment. I swear to you that when I got out of the truck, I hit the secret button. I know I did…

I went into the first little cubicle where the bank had it’s automatic teller and…it wouldn’t take my card. I tried a bunch of times, but it just wouldn’t. I can’t prove it, but I have my suspicions that the bank machine was in on it. He kept me just busy enough (without actually helping me) that when I walked out, in the clamour of downtown, I suddenly realized that car alarm was beeping his warning alarm that goes along with not hitting the secret button. It shouldn’t have, but it surprised me. I made for the truck, but when I was two feet away (nice timing for sure), the alarm activated.

I tried to turn it off, but like I said before…it turns off when it’s good and ready and not a moment before. So I left and went to another bank nearby and got my money. I came back and car alarm was still doing his thing. So I let myself in with my key (you can’t open the doors with the key tag while the alarm is going) and sat there while the alarm continued to shriek.

Let’s imagine this for a moment, shall we? I’m sitting in my truck…double parked…blocking a complete lane of busy traffic. As I sit in the front seat of my truck, my car alarm is blaring…every light in the truck is flashing and blinking. People are walking by and staring at me. Drivers are glaring and trying to pull out around me…

And there I sat. Looking like some kind of idiot. There was nothing I could do. Once again (even though I knew it was futile), I pushed every combination of the buttons I could think of. Nothing helped.

After about five minutes or so (which is an eternity when every person in a 300 foot circle is watching you and thinks you’re some kind of gringo Duffus…), car alarm finished his little tantrum and suddenly shut off. I have to say, I pulled out of there with smoke and the smell of burnt rubber.

When I arrived at my physiotherapist’s office, the cute receptionist was just about to call me to see where I was and if I was coming in today. I tried to explain…but she just sat there and stared at me blankly. I finally just shut up and went to my exam room…

Well played car alarm…well played. But it’s not over. Not by a long shot…