I established one simple beauty ritual when I was living in California. No matter how much, or how little makeup I wore at any given moment, my eyebrows had to look good. They frame my entire face. Makes sense, right? So every three weeks I spent 10 bucks plus tip having them waxed. It wasn't all vanity: I had a magazine route going with the Vietnamese-speaking estheticians, and they even taught me a few words in their language.
Seven months into my assignment, and I find myself looking like Bert from Sesame Street. A friend of mine from the special pioneer campaign, who works secularly as a stylist in Mexico, did me a solid by shaping them up for me once in August. But no matter how much I've plucked, shaved, and drawn, I just haven't been able to get that down. Of all the "sacrifices" made when coming here, that was probably one of the biggest.
Doña Angie has a salon a few blocks away. Danielle, her mom, and our friend Shalina who has been with us since the beginning of December, had all gone to her for manicures and pedicures. I knew she had at one point lived in Northern California and spoke a little English. I poked my head into her shop one day while I was in service, and asked if she waxed eyebrows. She said she did, for about $2. Sounded like a deal to me. I let Shalina go first so I could make sure this lady wasn't going to leave me looking permanently surprised. Shalina looked good, and today I had a couple of studies cancel. I took advantage and went to see Doña Angie.
We made small talk about her life in California and how much better she liked it there than in Miami, but we agreed that life is much more tranquil here than there. The TV was on, and a news report was recounting the results of Paul Walker's autopsy report. "What a shame," she said. "He was so handsome." But he isn't with The Lord, is he?" She knows we are Witnesses, and she seems to trust what we have to say, so she has no problems posing her Bible questions to me or any of the other friends who have gone to see her, from what I've heard. I explained to her the Bible's viewpoint on the condition of the dead, which led to a few other questions. Then she began to tell me about how she used to be a Catholic but left the church because she didn't want keep images in her home and was criticized for it. She then joined the Baptist church but later left because of the expense of contributions. Recently she had begun to attend La iglesia los carismaticos (The Church of the Charismatics, yeah, I don't know either), but something happened there that turned her off. I quickly prayed and then spoke up. "There are so many religions out there that don't follow the Bible. That is God's word. Would you be open to attending a meeting of people who do try their best to correctly teach and apply God's word?" I told her the address and schedule of our congregation meetings. But everyone knows where the hall is. Time for heavy artillery. "Do you know Doña Lebia? She was Catholic too, then Baptist, the Evangelical, but she studies with Jehovah's Witnesses and attends meetings because she likes learning what the Bible really teaches." Doña Lebia is my most progressive student and, because of her relatively affluent roots, is very well known here in Sébaco, so dropping her name has proven to be very effective in the local ministry. " I do her hair!" Doña Angie exclaims. "Ask her if you can join her for a meeting!" I suggest. (All this time, by the way, she is still working on my face.)
She walked to the back of the shop and brought back a big, beautiful Reina Valera Bible that she had bought in Mexico. "Let me show you what I love about this bible," I said. Since my head was still tilted back I had her teenage assistant Ashley turn in the Bible to Psalm 83:18 and read Jehovah's name. Another lady who was in the shop had a small bible with her and also looked up the scripture. I talked about how that name is painted on trucks and buildings all through Nicaragua but not used in worship as it should be. "I used to have a study, did you know that?" she said. "When I lived in Panama. I finished that yellow book, and I liked everything...until I got to the part about blood. I didn't like that. But I get it now." I asked her if she'd ever seen the scriptural basis for our beliefs about blood. I had Ashley turn to Acts 15:28,29 and read it. "What's fornication?" asked Doña Angie sheepishly. Ashley has obviously gone to Sunday school. "It's when two people are doing, you know, when they aren't married." Doña Angie has been in a common-law union for years. "So I'm a fornicator?" Awkward. Now what do I say, Jehovah? By this time, Doña Angie is done with my eyebrows, and she, Ashley, Doña Omara ( the other lady waiting in the shop), and her little nephew Christopher, are all gathered closely around the barber's chair where I am still sitting. "Well, a lot of us have made decisions and found out later that Jehovah God doesn't approve of them. But love for him and understanding of his Word have helped them make changes." We read 1 Corinthians 6:9-11, with emphasis on the part of verse 11 where it says, "that is what some of you were." "But look how Jehovah treats us when we do try to make changes," I said. We read Isaiah 1:18. They all just sat quietly, smiling slightly. I had to pause to take in the scene for a moment. I'm in a beauty shop, surrounded by people, two of them with bibles open, all hungry for Bible truth. This is so cool, I thought. At the end I left " Truth" tracts with them all and pointed out the explanation of our Bible study program. Doña Angie gave me her card and asked me to call her and remind her about the meeting. I walked out of the shop with a joyful heart and nice eyebrows (see photo above). Jehovah's always working to draw people...even when I'm just trying to be cute.
