I'm glad you came...

Danielle and I have received countless blessings in this assignment...but one that has been quite unexpected has been the number of visitors we have had since coming to Nicaragua. According to many other needgreaters, it's not something you really see too often. Perhaps Jehovah knew that we-well, I, needed those visits much more than I realized.

Danielle's mom, Daphne, was the first to come see us in mid-August.  She brought us a crockpot, which immediately moved her up the list in my book. Seriously though; It was refreshing to see how quickly she adapted to the climate and surroundings. In those 10 days she made herself part of the congregation. She doesn't speak Spanish, and that's the best part-she's a living testament to the fact that love does not get lost in translation. She has the perfect spirit for this kind of assignment and I gained much from her humor and wisdom. She was a great support to Danielle and me, and I cried when she left. Three days later, my parents and my sister Amber arrived. I was proud to be able to show them how well I adapted here. But in the end, I realized that my survival skills in part come from all of them. Dad got to work building and fixing things, and my mom and sister helped us get organized. It reminded me that I'd learned a lot of this so-called ingenuity right there on 44 Oxford Court. But beyond that: after 3 months of working hard to assimilate myself to this life, it was therapeutic to be around people that really do already know and understand every side of me,without apology or explanation. You lose a bit of yourself in the transition. Having them here helped me remember who I am. And of course, it was a huge relief to Mom to see that I wasn't living in squalor or dying of dengue. Sadly, because of a scheduling issue ( their airport shuttle left without me), I didn't get to say goodbye to them and I was devastated. It still hurts to think about it. But getting to have them meet my friends and students, to have them walk these streets with me, to share what I'm living with my nearest and dearest was a wonderful gift and I have never felt closer to them. Incidentally, at the time my brother was still disfellowshipped in August when they came. We were four instead of five. There was a bit of an ache in me over that, but we'll talk about how that ache was subsequently soothed a little later. 

Left to right: Rosmirn, Danielle, Daphne, me, Natasha, Maribel

Left to right: Shigemi, me, Mom, Dad, Amber, Phoebe

 

With the clouds of October came rays of light in the form of Dominique, Lorraine, and Tiffany. Dominique and LorrIne only got to be here 6 days. But their enthusiasm and joy helped us to remember what a privilege this really is. Wading through rivers to get to a territory is NOT your average Saturday. But they loved every minute of it. The brothers and sisters fell in love with them quickly. A little story about Lorraine: as we were crossing the river to return home, her umbrella was swept away. 5 brothers that had already made it safely to the riverbank suddenly dove back in into the rising waters and frantically searched for it. But it was gone. When we turned to look at Lorraine, she was in tears, and so was Maribel, a friend from my congregation. "She must have really loved that umbrella," a brother said. But Maribel and I knew that her tears had nothing to do with the umbrella. The idea that her brothers, whom she had just barely met and did not share a language, would risk themselves to get her umbrella back deeply touched her. My favorite part of this story is the fact that Maribel, without even being able to coverse with Lorraine, saw her face and just understood, and it moved her to cry too and give Lorraine a warm hug. Tiffany stayed with us for two weeks, through the weekend of our district convention. Her waist-length braids got her more attention than your average "morena" ( and we get a lot) but her affection and kindness is what really drew the brothers and sisters too her, especially the little kids ( but that also might have something to do with the fact that she kinda looks like one, hehe. Love you Tiff!).

Dominique and Lorraine ready for service

Crossing Rio Viejo

Tiffany, me, Danielle in service

Two weeks ago, while on another rural preaching tour, I got the news that my brother Devin had been reinstated. I was overcome with emotion; we hadn't talked in months. But a week after that, he was here with me. I never knew my kid brother was so adaptable. We slept in the humble home of a local couple and showered with a bucket of water. He endured the dust and heat in service. Didn't even flinch about the fact that my kitchen is practically outside. In the end, his conclusion was that I had a lovely congregation...and when I interpreted to him that a brother said I was a tough woman, he simply said, " yes...she is." And that did it. I left home without even being able to discuss my excitement or my anxieties with Devin, but in the end, here he was. And he was proud of me.

With Devin at Camino Real in Managua

We have a guest room now, and many hospitable local friends. COME SEE US! You try not to be flashy or ostentatious in a place with limited resources, but when my people show up, it's a legitimate excuse to be fachente (a "show-off"). I'm rich in friends and family-that is luxe that will not be robbed and can generously be shared with the brothers and sisters here. Having friends from home visit and share experiences with us helps us stay fortified, and it makes me feel like home is really not so far away. You will be uplifted by the response you see in the territory and the love you feel from the brothers and sisters. In turn, meeting you encourages them. One sister put it this way: "Most of us will probably never afford to travel, but it's ok- the brotherhood comes to us." 

Start packing!

For those who don't have Instagram or Facebook, I also have photos uploaded to Picasa:

https://picasaweb.google.com/100336397095293476552/NicaraguaSoFar?authkey=Gv1sRgCNX-m_aW8ab0qwE

Wherever I go...I'm always there

It's been a while, I know. Some of you may have even forgotten that I am in Nicaragua and moved on to the next thing =)It's ok, we all have lives! For that reason, I'm not going to go into an apologetic schpiel about how busy I've been and therefore unable to blog, et cetera. If I've learned anything in the course of this assignment it's this: We are all doing the same thing, and have plenty "plenty to do," wherever we may be in the world (1 Corinthians 15:58). If I weren't walking through calf-high muddy water to get to a bible study, I'd be fighting traffic on I-680 North to make it to a study on time after work. If I weren't swatting away bloodthirsty mosquitos in the house-to-house ministry, I'd be struggling to read a scripture through swollen eyes at a door in Pittsburg due to the high pollen count. Whether a person is struggling to stay organized and sane with double-digit Bible students, or trying to fulfill their Theocratic responsibilities while working a full-time job and raise children all at the same time-Jehovah's Witnesses as an organtization are the busiest people on earth, in my opinion. But would we have it any other way? Is there any greater joy, any sweeter sleep to be had at night? I'd just like to take this time to tell all my friends, wherever they are serving Jehovah and in whatever capacity, that I am consistently encouraged by all your faithful hard work. We are all just doing what we ought to, but still, it's nice to slave side by side with so many friends.

So my friend Laura (shoutout!) had a question that I thought I'd answer by means of a blog entry. What is the most challenging aspect of this assignment, and how have I been able to overcome it? The answer is found in today's title: Wherever I go; whatever I'm doing, I can't seem to get away from pesky old ME! I am my own thorn in the flesh, wherever in the world I may find myself. Before I left California I made a bunch of sweeping declarations that I am now having to eat ("This a chance to reinvent myself, I'm starting over, I can be a whole other person, etc."). I meant these things as a reference to all the quirks and insecurities and flaws in character, attitude and/or perception that posed challenges to me at home. I think I actually believed that being somewhere else, I'd become someone else. News flash, to no one but myself: it doesn't quite work that way. I left a lot behind, but much to my chagrin, I couldn't quite get away from ME. I am still here.

Here are the some of the issues that have their origin in this big ol' head of mine, that somehow got plane tickets here for an extended visit:

1. Feelings of inadequacy: Our Sunday meeting attendance is mind-boggling. We have a congregation of some 60 publishers, and yet our meeting attendance is, on average, double that amount. There are SO many interested people here in Sebaco..we start new studies every single day. Sometimes I stop and think about how much work there is to do, and how much growth I have seen even in just the three months I have been here, and I begin to feel, well, small. And I am. It's Jehovah's harvest and he just lets us toss seeds and maybe grab a few heads of grain. But I still question at times if I have what it takes-spiritually, physically, and emotionally-to actually contribute anything. A couple of people I study with are now regular at meetings and one even hopes to join the Theocratic Ministry school this month. And you know something? That scares the daylights out of me. I really want to help these people obtain a relationship and good standing with Jehovah and I'm always scared that I'm going to drop the ball somehow. But I was that way at home. All I can say is that I'm grateful to Jehovah that I'm even getting to try.

2. Modesty and reasonableness (or lack thereof): With so much to do, there always exists the challenge of trying to figure out one's limitations are and how to work within them. You all know how that is. With the Mexico branch's special pioneer campaign coming to a close for the season, the brothers and sisters who worked so hard here during the duration of their assignments and are now returning to their home countries or congregations leave behind many hungry students-GREAT students at that. At one point I wanted to accept any and every student that any of the brothers and sisters from the "ruta" wanted to turn over to me, and at one point I pretty much tried to do just that. But a person has to eat, sleep, do their own personal study, look at herself in the mirror or even just SIT every once in a while. The elders here, though, know exactly what we are working with, and they regularly remind us to be modest and balanced in our service. And it helps. Life is simpler and slower here, which really does afford more time for personal study and meditation. We can spend more time with the brothers and just stop and smell the nanzites (it's a really fragrant fruit that grows here).

3. Worrying too much: I worry all the time about whether or not I'm approachable to people in the congregation; about whether or not my personality is being lost in translation (I speak Spanish fluently but I'm just learning Nica!). I'm worried right now about the Kingdom Hall build we are assigned to participate in this weekend. It is 6 hours north, near the Honduras border, in a town called San Juan del Rio Coco. Now, although it is true that Jehovah's organization is worldwide and united; when it comes to certain regional particulars, such as construction project, the goings-on are a little different. (Let's just say "organized" looks different from place to place!) Danielle is really excited about helping to build a Kingdom Hall in another country; as she should be, it is exciting in theory. But I'm thinking, man, how's this going to work? What are we going to be doing? And what if I drop a cement block on someone's head? I know good and well Jehovah is going to make it work and a house will be built for him. It's just hard for me to relax and not overthink it. Another thing I can tend to overthink: congregation arrangements. Again, with regard to some arrangements, such as meetings for field service, there is a margin of variation from congregation to congregation depending on the local needs. So I'm constantly thinking about how well I'm cooperating with and supporting the arrangements. It's tough sometimes not revert to the school of thought, "well back at home, we did it THIS way..." Jehovah's will is going to get done, April! Just smile and go out in service!

Yes, I have the same issues as I did at home. There are some sad days; usually due to missing loved ones especially after the visits Danielle and I had from her mother, and my parents and sister. There are mishaps(there was an incident with my bike...that's all I'm going to tell you), frustrations, disappointments, misunderstandings...just like EVERYWHERE ELSE. Not to be forgotten is that Satan works here too (you should have seen the guy on the bus who told me he'd become a Witness just to go out with me-anybody who looks like that while speaking the nonsense he was saying has GOT to be one of the Devil's kids!). We have to be on guard all the time, just like you do. But the thing that makes you believe that you are pretty close to being in the Promised Land here, besides the productivity in the ministry, is that life here lends itself to more time for study, meditation and prayer. Everything I do here totally revolves around the ministry, which I think inclines my mind a little more in the right direction every day. I may not have miraculously become someone else, but I'm getting to take time to work on specific things I want to improve while I'm getting Jehovah's work done. I'm still a mess. But I'm a mess who is living a good life.

Pioneer meeting during the C.O.'s visit (featuring our auxiliary pioneers)

Left to right: Shigemi, me, Mom, Dad, Amber and Fuebi after the meeting

With Mom in service

Dory!!! (She's blue and yellow and she's all over the place and so is her owner)

For more pictures follow me on Instagram @sisteraprilgantt

My third "first talk"

With my publisher records having been officially transferred to the Sébaco congregation, the elders are now free to use me as they wish. Danielle* had already had two Theocratic Ministry School assignments by the beginning of July. For weeks I’d been joking that her consistent pep and energy was going to make me the Robin to her Batman in this congregation; the Kelly to her Beyoncé. My role in this assignment would basically be to facilitate her awesomeness. And as worn out as I’d begun to feel back at home, that was 100% fine by me. But I had begun to miss participating in the school. I was both excited and nervous to receive the assignment slip. But once I saw the word “arrebatamiento” (“rapture”) on the sheet, my brain went comatose. Didn’t matter that I’d been on the school 27 years-my first talk in THIS congregation was going to be on one of the biggest topics of controversy in our Evangelical-dominated territory, and something I had very little experience explaining. And I had no idea how to even begin to present it in a realistic setting. The prayers started well in advance.

Exactly one week before I was set to give the talk (I still had nothing in the way of ideas), one of my students, Lebia, asked me about the meaning of 1 Thessalonians 4:17. It had been discussed at her church days earlier. That is the very scripture that talks about being “caught away (” as in the “rapture”) and the principal basis of the Reasoning book’s information that would serve as the central theme of my talk. I always joke that I wished that my students would pull the “before-we-start-our-study-I-have-a-question” that has served as the introduction to many an assignment by sisters on the school for years. “That never happens to me, I don’t know who these sisters are studying with!” I’d say. But there it was. Lebia had virtually handed me my setting. “Make sure you are at the meeting next Thursday,” was my answer.

You can see a mediocre clip of the talk by clicking on or cutting and pasting the YouTube link below. The heads directly in front of the camera are those of Lebia and her 20-year-old son, Carlo, who is in town on vacation from university in the capital. At first he was basically being forced to sit in on the study since he was home. Now he prepares and participates, and plans to continue his study on the weekends once his normal school schedule resumes. (Side note: one of our ministerial servants saw Carlo at the meeting that night and admitted to me reluctantly that before learning the truth, he used to bully Carlo in elementary school. He said Carlo looked more than surprised to see him. He has offered to continue Carlo’s study once he goes back to school.) I am so thankful to Jehovah that I was assigned this particular topic. Not only was my student’s question answered, but the subject has come up a few times in the ministry since then, and I feel much more equipped to discuss it!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6WonUpCq42M

*Check out Danielle's blog at http://www.sebacojourney.blogspot.com

Holier Than Your Average Camping Trip

FOREWORD: I wrote this about a week ago, before reading this weeks's service meeting segment which featured 2013 Yearbook experiences of brothers and sisters in Myanmar preaching in the mountains. Those timely experiences have definitely strengthened my desire to try this again!

"You see all that over there?? asked Freddy, a young ministerial servant and pioneer in our congregation. He was pointing to a misty landscape of dark green hills along the horizon. They were far, and obviously steep. "That's where we'll be preaching on the gira (pronounced "HEER-ah", referring to a rural preaching tour) this weekend." My leg started to tingle just looking in the direction where he was pointing, and suddenly I was too old and too weak to go. Fast-forward three days, and I find myself with a good 25 pounds strapped to my back, hiking up a windy mountain path with my closed umbrella as a walking stick...and wondering how in the world I convinced myself to do this.

I had heard the gira discussed for maybe a week prior to this. It sounded like fun, in theory. I like camping. And this would be two days walking through woods, marshes, over creeks, and in meadows that connected farms; with the brothers and sisters, preaching to the inhabitants of these isolated territories. We would cook and bathe outdoors and sleep in hammocks. And it would be epic.

WHO ARE WE KIDDING???

Yes, I enjoy camping. In California, in state-maintained campgrounds, with rest areas and s'mores and tents an air mattresses. I know the woods in Cali. I know what to pack, what animal sounds to expect and what kinds of "visitors" to beware of. I could get bitten by a snake out here, or get caught in a tropical storm. What if I walked too slowly and held the group back? What if the terrain was too much for me? No one in the congregation has a vehicle, so if I got too tired it's not like I could opt to ride in the car. If I chose to do this, there was no turning back. So that day that I was talking to Freddy, when my leg started to conveniently bother me, I was secretly relieved. I'd promised myself, my family, Danielle, and Jehovah, that I'd listen to my body and not go beyond my own limits. This was obviously beyond my limits, so I could stay home in good conscience. I would love to be brave enough to go, I thought. I'd love to be in my 20's and be in good health and know I can handle this. But I'm not. Oh well. But my conscience would not leave me in peace. I really did want to go. I was just afraid. And if there is one thing I have learned about Jehovah is that he is always telling us not to be afraid. So at the urging of Danielle I decided to just attend the pre-gira meeting after the Service Meeting Thursday night. I'd only be going to see what was really involved. Maybe I could start getting myself in shape in time for the next gira. It turned out that Brother Sanchez, the elder who would be leading the group was bringing his three-year-old daughter. My pride would not allow me to sit that trip out of a 3-year-old could do it. Number two, my Bible student, Lebia, had already lent me a beautiful hammock for the trip. I'd feel dumb going back the next week and telling her I hadn't even used it. And that preparatory meeting was so crazy and funny and non-military (much different than what I was expecting). I prayed to Jehovah for a clear answer. My mind and heart started speaking to one another again, and I started packing that night, with the self-imposed stipulation that if I woke up the next morning to what I have come to recognize as the beginnings of a "bad MS day," I wouldn't go. When I woke up, I was fine. It was time to go.

There were 27 at the meeting for service that day. We started at 7:45 and walked about four miles to catch a bus that would take us to a higher altitude where we would begin service. We split into two groups that went split off in different directions to work the different homes. Houses up there were even more simple than the ones where we live, but it was not uncommon to run into someone with an outhouse, a pig rolling around in the front yard, a satellite dish and a flat screen T.V. It's all about priorities I suppose. People were very receptive, as the Witnesses don't make it up there very often, and as a result we placed a lot of literature. We stopped for lunch at 12 at the based of a hill where we all shared what we brought. A collection was taken up so that a couple of brothers could leave to find soda (again, priorities.) We continued until it started to get dark, at which point a few other brothers went to buy beans, rice, and vegetables. Meanwhile, one of Brother Sanchez's return visits told us that we could stay there in an empty building on his large property. The sisters converged upon the damp, dirty space and didn't relinquish it until it was many shades lighter than it was when we got there. The owner of the property also allowed us to use his outdoor kitchen to prepare dinner. The young brothers with us pulled off impressive acrobatics to be able to secure our hammocks to the rafters. I volunteered to offer my services to test each hammock's strength with my own body weight. When the lights went down after our consideration of some scriptures, all that could be seen and heard were the shadowy outlines of our wriggling cocoons and the faint sounds of whispers and giggles and shushing. It was everything you'd think summer camp would feel like, except it had a lasting purpose.

I slept well in the hammock, but the next day I had slightly less energy. I suppose I started off so strong that I didn't have as much for the second day. Since this is winter in Nicaragua, the 80-degree weather was considerably more agreeable than most days, but at one point the sun came out and it seemed to drain all of us. But every half hour someone shared an encouraging experience they had, or someone started a Kingdom song for us all to sing, or we'd just get downright goofy-and then I'd forget about the narrow, steep paths, the mud, the latrines, or my own unsteady footing. I prayed from the beginning that I'd have energy to continue. The last bus down the mountain left at 2 p.m., but at that time we were still preaching. I braced myself for the three-hour walk home. I had prayed since the beginning to endure the trip no matter what arose. When 4:30 rolled around on that second day, though, I was fading (I think we all were)and dark clouds were beginning to form above us. Just then, a man that one of the sisters in the grew knew drove by with a shipment of firewood in a large truck. He was going to Sebaco! We all piled into the truck. Brother Sanchez said that since he thought the truck had probably come in response to my prayer, I should probably sit up front. I'm sure the driver regretted that. That blessing had put me in a chatty mood, and by the time we got back to Sebaco, he looked over at me slowly and said, "Are you a pastor?"
I'm told we walked 25 mikes that day. i didn't feel them. There is another gira planned for next month. I'm not sure if I'll be able to go this time; it might be best for me to wait until the following one. I'm saying that now...but when I picture that parade of umbrellas and think of the laughs and upbuilding conversation, of the variety was saw in creation, and of the witness given to the hillside dwellers just to see that multicolored snake of umbrellas wind itself cheerfully up the road just to see them-I'm thinking I should probably start stretching and packing now.

Manos a la obra (Getting to work)

"Half a block Southeast of the Sesteo Restaurant,across from the Baptist Church, San Antonio neighborhood, Sébaco, Matagalpa, Nicaragua."

That is my official address. So, as you can imagine, keeping records for the field ministry is like a doing a final exam for Spanish class, with a little topography mixed in. Here's one of my return visits:


Yes, there is a map drawn on it. There are no street names here. There are only blocks, landmarks; north, south , east and west. So for the first week or so, returning to find interested ones almost sent me to the psychiatric ward. But with what could only be angelic direction, the deserving are being found.

Here's just one experience: Last week as I was leaving one home near mine, a woman walks over asking if the brother with me and I are Jehovah's Witnesses. She explains that a friend of hers studies the Bible with Witnesses although she attends an Evangelical church because she likes the way we explain things. She asked if we would study the bible with her. I returned to visit Lebia the next morning and we had her first study. That night, she was with me at the meeting, and she has been to two so far.

Danielle has 10 studies already. I am a slacker. I only have 7. The elders and servants wasted no time in putting us to work, either. After our first week, Danielle had a talk on the TMS and I had a demonstration on the service meeting. That's a story that I had no idea was funny until later. I heard the audience gasp slightly, then chuckle. But since I saw nothing strange around me I assumed maybe something funny happened in the audience (maybe a kid was up to something or whatever.) Apparently while I was standing there presenting the Awake a 3-inch insect was flying around and landed on my belly. I never saw it. Poor Danielle was horrified. I really think Jehovah kept me from seeing it because who knows how far off the stage I would have jumped!

So our weekly schedule is generally as follows:

Monday: Cleaning,shopping,laundry, personal worship, "rest"

Tuesday, Friday, Saturday: Service from 8:30-11:30 a.m., then return visits and studies from 2 p.m.-4 or 5 p.m.
Wednesday: Mini-rural day. We board a bus to a nearby rural town and preach there all day.

Thursday: Service 8:30 a.m.-11:30 a.m., Congregation Bible Study, Theocratic Ministry School and Service meeting 6:00 p.m.

Sunday: Service 8:30 a.m.-12:00 p.m.; Public talk and Watchtower Study 3:00 p.m.

Danielle and I also do "Family" Worship Friday nights, which is a tremendous refreshment at the end of our work week. She explains it this way: "We spend so much time teaching the same basic Bible truths to people, which is wonderrful for them, but it really isn't enough to sustain us. We need to dig deeper. This is the way we stay alive spiritually."

Right now, we are packing for a "gira," or rural preaching tour, which is basically a two-day camping trip to talk to people in an area that is too far out to reach on a regular basis. There is a hammock and a first aid kit in my backpack, along with a flashlight and some non-perishables. If we make it through alive, it will be the subject of my next post. But for now, here are a few pictures from the last few days =)

Side note: Some have asked why my blog is called "¡Buenas!" I had every intention of explaining that, but forgot to do so. When we are in service we greet the householder by yelling "¡Buenas!" through the normally open doorway of a home. It's a common greeting, but I'm not quite sure why, because it simply means "good" in the plural form. It could be so as to avoid the inconvenience of having to pay attention to the time in order to be able to specify "Good Morning," "Good Afternoon." or "Good Evening." That's just a theory. I like to believe that we say it because we know we are bringing "good news!"

The first 9 days

There are two seasons here in Nicaragua: rainy,and dry. My roomate Danielle and I arrived here on separate flights on Wednesday, May 22, 2013, right at the commencement of the rainy season. It will pour, and thunder, and flash spontaneously and with reckless abandon for the next 5 months. And we will be in service.

Whether in wet or dry season, it is always humid. It even smells moist here. Riding down the Pan-American highway from Managua to Sébaco, where we are assigned, the varying terrains are either covered with rich green foliage or peppered with lush trees in the middle of tilled fields or tiny towns, reflecting the benefits of the tropical climate. My skin and hair love it. It is always about 85 degrees, and even when the sky is overcast, care still must be taken with the Atlantic sun; for even behind clouds, she does know how to burn brown sugar. ;-)

We live in a cute one-bedroom apartment, next door to two regular pioneer sisters named Fuebi and Chigemi, who have been here for 8 years. They have been invaluable in helping us get settled in. So were our friends Oscar and Jenny. (They are serving in Diriamba, Carazo; about 2 hours from here. Oscar's father lives in San Francisco but has a beautiful home in Managua. Oscar and Jenny were gracious enough to pick us up from the airport, take us shopping for necessities for our place, and let us get a good night of delicious, air-conditioned sleep in Managua before the long trip to Sébaco the next day. They donated to us our first appliance and first piece of furniture; a small stove with two burners that connects to a gas tank, and a queen sized bed, as well as some dinnerware so we could eat that first night. Without Oscar, Jenny, Fuebi, Chigemi, and Shannon and Nelson (other friends from home who serve in nearby Esteli and gave me tons of advice to help me prepare); as well as other friends we have made so quickly in the Sébaco congregation, this week would have been substantially more challenging.

There are 55 publishers in the congregation, and there are 30,000 residents in this town. So that calculates to roughly one publisher to 545 persons. There is A LOT of work to do here. So pioneers have been sent here on rutas ( a temporary service assignment in an area outside of one's local congregation) from Mexico, El Salvador and other parts of Nicaragua. We got to work right away, and when we arrived at the meeting for service, the attendance was standing-room only. At first I thought, there's no need here, there are plenty of workers. But then as I began talking with the the brothers and sisters I learned that those numbers were large mainly because of the visting volunteers. And then, we hit the streets.


Sébaco has relatively nice areas, like the neighborhood where we live. Other than the trash that people are accustomed to carelessly tossing on the ground, many homes are well-built and have electricity. But on the outskirts of the city are many barrrios rurales, or rural neighborhoods, where people live in poorly constructed houses made of materials. As you can imagine, these are our favorite territories. People are humble and willing to listen and learn. So willing, in fact, that the pioneers here all but jumped for joy when they got here, because they could finally take a load off and pass some of this abundance of studies to other teachers. Don't you wish you had that problem?

I'll tell you more about some of my experiences later. But I just wanted you to see a little bit of what Missionary Monday looks like:



That's right, we wash clothes by hand. My whites have never been so white! And we walk to the markets to by groceries. Alot of things here require patience, adaptation, and just plain ingenuity. I'll have to take a picture of the way we were able to rig up a mosquito net over our bed, though we live in a house with a tin roof and no ceiling. But I'm enjoying the simplicity of life and learning so much every day. I'm a little overwhelmed by how much work there is to do, but I know we won't be doing it without the best help available!