Andres' soccer ministry...

Lots of things to post these days, but until I get a little more organized with all of that, I thought I'd share this.  A year and a half or so ago, our church sent Andres and a couple of other church guys to Argentina to a training seminar to learn how to use soccer and coaching as a teaching tool. 

Andres came back very excited about the possibilities.  He started planning and eventually started a project at the children's home, Mision Timoteo (a children's home we help).  Last week they celebrated their one year anniversary.  The project has expanded to working with kids from the community as well.

This afternoon I did up a little video for him, to show at our church's annual Christmas/give thanks supper.  The church supports the project so this was his report to them.  It figured I'd share it here as well. 

Andres (with Sandro helping) is doing an amazing job and it's been exciting to see his teaching and leadership/mentoring gifts grow through this experience. 

I think I'm feeling that proud father thing going on....

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Christmas is coming!

Filming a big tarantula in the road.

This has been a fun week.  If you're a friend on Facebook you've seen a few of the pictures.  For the rest of you, I've been helping a friend from Canada while she films a documentary for a TV channel in Calgary.  I'm what's called a chauffeur/creative consultant.  For the past week or so I've been driving her and her cameraman around and helping translate and set things up with people/sights here she wants to film.  It's been a lot of fun and I've actually seen and done a few things I've never had the chance to do before.  I was joking with my mom that like a lot of dads I took on a second job to help buy the kids Christmas presents.  =)

So while there have been lots of upsides to this job, the downside has been that I haven't really gotten started on preparing for Christmas yet.  Well...that and the fact that it's 33 C out and it feels like Christmas is six months away still instead of Tuesday.  But tomorrow Andres and Yimy and I will start our Christmas shopping for the house and then Saturday I'll grocery shop for everything we need for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.  I only have to buy for 15 guys and cook for 35 so it shouldn't take that long.   

The other thing I didn't quite have time to do was write this post.  =)  I wanted to let you know about a special project we're doing.  If you've been following the blog for very long, you'll remember we did this last year.

For those of you who are new or don't remember (it's okay...it happens to the best of us) last year we helped a children's home we work with celebrate Christmas.  First we found out they didn't have any Christmas decorations and that they had nothing special planned for Christmas Eve (when Bolivians celebrate Christmas).  So we went out and bought some decorations.  Then we put on Christmas supper for them.  It was a ton of fun and made for some pretty happy faces.  Of course we'd like to make this all happen again this year.

As well, like I said, I'm starting my Christmas shopping tomorrow.  Once again we have a new face in the house and this will be his first opportunity to celebrate Christmas with us.  For a lot of the guys, Christmas with us was the first time in their lives that they'd received a personal gift or shared in all the joy that go along with Christmas.  Since those early days, we've established some great family traditions.  We invite any of the guys we know who maybe don't have anyone to celebrate with to come join us.  So there's always a full house.

Of course all of these things take time (which I mostly have) and money (well....).  So if you're interested in helping us financially to see these things happen, it would be a huge blessing to us.  As many of you know, some of our guys are approaching the end of their schooling or have graduated.  Here in Bolivia, those final classes are very expensive and as a result our coffers are pretty low.  We would hugely appreciate any help you might be able to give.

One of my favourite traditions my family has in Canada is reading the Christmas story together before we open gifts.  It helps us remember and focus on what it is we're celebrating.  It's a tradition we've carried on down here.  Christmas morning we read God's Word together, take time to pray and then open gifts.  We all know there's a lot of joy in that moment.

Thank you all for considering this request.  If you'd like, you can e-mail me at ken.switzer@iteams.org for any additional information you need or you can click on the link on the right hand side of this page "To Donate".  As well, you can call my mission at 1-800-465-7601 and they'd be happy to help you.

I'll post some pictures of our Christmas decorations soon.  Just as soon as we finish them.  =)  Tonight in about an hour I'm off to help my friend film the all-night butchering of 250 chickens for El Jordan's "Christmas on the Streets".

My life is never boring.

Feliz Navidad! 

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Roberto's Grad!

A couple of weeks ago we celebrated the gradutation of our first university graduate! Roberto graduated from law school. So I officially have a lawyer...who I will never pay...for the rest of my life. =)

It was a good night...

Roberto with his family...

Roberto with me and the guys!

 

Our table...

 

Our plate of snack food...

So funny story...even though there's a meal included with the grad, it's always the custom to have plates of snack food for the guests, provided by the family. We usually go the potato chips, peanuts, a few chocolates and some banana chips route. It's pretty standard and has been fine for all the other grads we've been involved with.

Kind of forgot this was a law school graduation. Most of the families were a little more upper crust, shall we say, than us.

As I walked in and saw the other tables, I was like..."Oops."

There were full meals spread out. Fried chicken, empanadas, little finger foods...things I didn't even recognize....

So I dumped what we had, grabbed Andres and Jose Manuel and took off for the nearest grocery store. It was too late to do much, but we bought a big block of cheese and some olives and some fancy rich people crackers.

I have some very funny pictures on my phone of us cutting up the cheese into little cubes in the cab of my truck (I had to buy a knife and a cutting board). Also turned out I was the only one there who liked olives. But they seemed like something you would put on a fancy, law school grad platter of snack foods.

I did enjoy them...

Roberto walking in with his mom.

 

With the diploma!

Many Bolivians tend not to smile in pictures or in more serious situations. They can sometimes look a little severe. That was the case with Roberto's mom (and most of his family). Roberto was pretty serious too during the prossesional.

But I got some smiles out of him once he was up on the platform...

Liking that diploma!

It was pretty classy. As I mentioned...

 

The graduating class of 2012!

Lots of congratulations!

Roberto with his Grandma.

 

Awkward hugs between brothers...

 

With his younger sister...

 

Roberto with his mom and siblings.

Yea...there's not a single picture where they're all looking the same direction.

It was a pretty cool night. We've been looking forward to this for a long time. I actually got a little weepy when I saw Roberto up at the front. Of course, weepy for me is maybe not the same as weepy for other people...but I was still kind of emotional. It was exciting moment!

Roberto's mom was emotional too. I'd only met her one other time. She lives a long ways up into the mountains and the last time I saw her was eight years ago when she came to visit Roberto and his brother at the home I used to work at and where they lived.

Everytime she was near me, she gave me a big hug and thanked me again for everything I'd done. It was nice, but I just kept thinking that this was so much bigger than anything I'd done. It was also our church family here in Santa Cruz...it was the people that support us from North America...it was the people around the world who pray for us.

And most of all it was God who protected this kid and brought him to this place. It was amazing to be one small part in the plans and purposes that God has for Roberto. I'm excited to see where he goes from here.

And a huge thanks to all of you for your part in this process. Many of you have never met Roberto and yet you faithfully give and pray so that he has the opportunity to change the direction of not only his life, but of his family as well.

So yea...thank you!

I have no doubt that is just the first graduation of many to come!

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A Day in the Life...

When people ask me what an average day looks like for me down here, I’m never quite sure what to say.  I think the word “average” is what throws me off.  Every day turns out a little different.  Some days are pretty normal…hanging out at the house with the guys…that sort of thing.  But then…other days get more interesting…

Yesterday wasn’t some kind of crazy, adventure day or anything.  But it’s typical of what life can be like down here.  I happened to have my camera with me so I snapped a few pictures along the way.

I spent a couple of hours in the morning waiting for a plumber to show up to stop the water dripping into my bathroom and laundry room from the apartment upstairs.  He said 8 AM.  I waited until 10.  He never showed.

Then I went over to the house and hung out there to make sure things were running smoothly…or as smoothly as a house of twelve guys ever gets.

Jose Manuel is working at the city airport (he’s studying to be an aviation mechanic) doing his practicum.  He doesn’t get paid for his work or get lunch, and we don’t have the funds for him to buy food every day, so I usually take him a plate of whatever we’re for lunch.  I know some people are going to ask why he doesn’t just fix himself a sandwich in the morning, but this isn’t really a sandwich kind of culture.  Lunch is the big “hot” meal of the day.  He has classes after work so he doesn’t get home until 9 PM or so.  That’s a long time to wait for your big meal of the day. So I took him lunch.

Then Roberto and I went suit shopping for his grad (which is tonight).  He’ll be our first graduate.  I’ll post some pictures from his grad later.  He won’t be leaving us right away because he still has to specialize and that means a bit more studying.  But he will be finished with university.

We went to a couple of places before we found a suit he liked AND we could afford.  Ha…I’m sure that sounds familiar to all the parents out there.

Our only funny moment came when I realized I didn’t have enough money on me so we walked five blocks to a bank machine and then on the way home realized that if we’d turned the other direction there was one a block away.  I told him it was good for our health and that he was getting fat so…

Suit shopping (and searching for a bank teller) took longer than planned so I dropped him off at another market to find shoes and headed for El Jordan, my friend Corina’s ministry.  They were doing a weekend camp out in the countryside for the kids of their students, and I’d volunteered to drive.  They also asked  Yimy to drive their truck.

Driving a truck load of kids out into the country on a muddy, crazy road pretty much defines what I like about my job.  =)

 

 

 

After we dropped them off it was back into the city to buy more Christmas decorations and pizza.  It’s become our yearly tradition that Ken bribes the guys with pizza to help hang up lights and whatnot.  I’m trying to get into the spirit here and everything…but I’m a Canadian at heart and without snow it’s a little tough.  Closer to Christmas it’ll be better.  =)  You‘ll notice the guys are all shirtless.  It was like 40 C in the house that night….

 

 

 

 

And that was my day.

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Motorbikes and city buses and what God does...

A couple of months ago on Facebook I asked for help with the medical expenses of a young guy named Larry, a friend who’d been in a bad motorcycle accident.  For a while now, I’ve been meaning to update you all about what happened.  Here’s a bit of the story…

Larry in the middle with his brother and cousin.

I’ve known Larry since he was twelve when he lived at the boy’s home I used to work at.  If I’d had favourites (which of course I didn’t), he would definitely have been one of them.  He was just a nice kid with a smile for everybody.

He didn’t talk much about his life but  I found out eventually that his mom was in jail so he and his brother had been placed in care.  He didn’t know his dad and all of his other siblings were older and lived out of country.

I didn’t see Larry much after I left the home until about a year and a half ago.  His mom was out of jail and he’d moved into the city to live with her.  After we reconnected he started coming over to the house every week or so to see us.  It wasn’t going great with his mom so I was happy to see him spending time with us and hanging out with the guys.

Then suddenly he was gone and we weren’t sure what had happened.  Turned out that his mom was back in jail and Larry had joined the military to do his obligatory year service because he wasn’t sure what else to do.  I talked with him a few times on Facebook but that was it.

Last spring he showed up in Santa Cruz again.  We didn’t see him as much as before, but I tried to connect with him every few weeks to see how he was doing.  I was worried because he didn’t really seem like himself.  He was much more reserved and quite whenever we had lunch.

Then in September I got a call from a friend of his.  She told us that Larry had been in a serious motorcycle accident and gave us directions to the hospital.  Larry had asked her to contact his friend on Facebook and so she contacted me. 

It was a bit of a God moment because turns out I wasn’t the friend he wanted her to contact.  He was embarrassed about everything that was happening in his life and hadn’t planned to tell me.  So…you can imagine his surprise when I walked through the door of his hospital room.  =) 

As we talked and I started asking questions (which is what I do) I started to get a sense that things weren’t exactly right.  The other fellow in the accident was in the same room as Larry so there was a limit to what we could talk about.  But I could tell there were some problems.

Eventually I found out that Larry was working for what amounted to a group of loan sharks here in the city.  These guys were Columbians who were (are) here in the country illegally.  They’re using drug money from Columbia to finance (very) high interest loans to people who could never get loans from an actual bank.  Larry and his friend were going around collecting interest on the loans…which is what they were doing when they ran their motorcycle into the side of a city bus.

Larry doesn’t remember anything from the accident itself.  He was in a coma for two days and then when he woke up he couldn’t see anything for another day.  His doctor told me over and over that he couldn’t believe that Larry was still alive.  He said he’s seen lots of these types of accidents and the people nearly always die. 

Another God moment was that Larry NEVER used a helmet.  He told me he thought they were too hot.  That day, for whatever reason, he put one on and so he was wearing it when his head connected with the side of the bus.

When we spoke with his doctor we also found out that Larry’s medical bills were over $3500 US.  That’s almost two years wages for most people here.  Larry couldn’t leave until that bill was paid (and he had no money)…but he was also racking up more expenses every day he was in the hospital.  So…a bit of a no win situation. 

By now we knew that Larry was working for these guys, even though we didn’t know all the details at that point.  My fear was that they would pay for his hospital and he would end up very indebted to them.

So I asked on FB if anyone could help us.  I couldn’t really say at that point everything that was happening or the time constraint we were under…just that we needed some help.  And….people were amazing and very generous.  We had the $3500 in just over a day.  When we went to pay his bill and get him out of the hospital, I told Larry that I thought it would be better for him to recuperate with us rather than by himself.  He didn’t argue.  We’d just saved his butt. 

As soon as we got him out of there, I sat him down and had a pretty serious conversation about how dangerous the situation was and that he needed to leave.  I talked to him about the option of moving in with us and to start studying.  He thought about it (but not for too long!) and agreed.  I think he was pretty clear on the fact that God had just given him a second chance.

Since then it’s been amazing to watch the changes in him.  I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone blossom the way he has.  He truly is a different kid. 

He’s never really had a dad, so I think he’s enjoying hanging out with me.  We sit in the office in the house and chat about all kinds of things.  He loves laughing and joking and trying to prove (unsuccessfully I might add) that he’s stronger than me.  He’s got toothpicks for arms so…

It’s still rough for him some days though.  The spiritual battle hasn’t abated in his life.  He’s made some good (and difficult) choices since moving in with us trying to move his life in a different direction, but that old life still calls.  He and I have started a weekly one on one Bible study at my house and he’s spent some time talking with a couple of the guys in the house as well, about life and the struggles he’s having.

As well, the Columbians haven’t stopped looking for him.  They called him continuously after the accident, until he finally changed his number.  They’re still angry that he left.  Fortunately they don’t know where we live, but they do work in neighborhoods not that far from us. 

I actually didn’t know all of this (that they were angry about his leaving) until just the other day when it came up in a conversation Larry and I were having.  He was quite nonchalant about it all.  I, on the other hand, was doing my best to remain calm as I pictured a bunch of angry Columbian drug dealers/loan sharks descending on the house.  Too many crazy movies with the guys I think.  It’s what they make us watch. 

If you could continue to pray for Larry and for all of us, that’d be great.  Please pray for protection for all of us and for wisdom and strength for Larry.  For those of you who gave so generously to help Larry with his medical costs, I want you to know that it was money well spent.  You literally saved this kid’s life and sent it in a completely different direction.  God is at work in him in an amazing way.

So thank you all!  I’m going to work at keeping the blog a little more current again, so come back soon!  Our first kid is graduating on Saturday (Roberto the lawyer) so I’ll be sure to post pictures of that!

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My little friend...

I came out of my apartment a week or so ago and met this fellow crossing the street.  I'm not sure where he was coming from (he was headed away from the parking lot of my building) but he knew where he wanted to go. 

He's not the first sloth I've run into but he may well be the biggest....



The things you see in your neighbourhood.

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God's Answer...

I realize that too far too often I write when things are tough and we need prayer.  But later, when God responds and resolves the situation, I don’t always communicate that.  And so here we are, a month or so after the last crisis and I never wrote about what happened in the end.

It was an interesting few weeks back in August.  It’s difficult when you have to make a decision that you know is going to significantly affect someone’s life.  I’ve had to ask guys to leave the house in the past and it’s never easy.  You don’t want to watch someone lose what is potentially a life changing opportunity.

Obviously I was praying a lot over what I felt I needed to do.  The young guy in question was a good kid and a great friend, but was choosing a lifestyle that was not only destructive to him, it was affecting the rest of the guys in the house.  It was especially difficult for me because this guy was one of our leaders and a huge help in the house. 

My biggest fear was letting my personal feelings interfere with what was best for this guy and what God wanted to do in his life.  It’s easy to look at things from a personal perspective and decide you know what’s right.  I did my best to step back and just let God do His thing.  Having said that, the post below speaks to what I felt in my heart.  I was tired and definitely more than a little frustrated.

And then an amazing thing happened.  God didn’t just work in this young guy’s heart like I’d hoped and prayed for.  He did some significant things in my heart as well. 

I’ve never had a problem trusting God for our physical needs.  Again and again He’s provided for us.  I struggle sometimes though, in trusting what He’s going to do in the lives of the guys I work with.  I’ve never really understood how God’s Will and our own free will work together.  So I sometimes worry and get more frustrated and concerned than I probably should. 

But throughout that week I saw little reminders again and again that God was always going to be faithful no matter what the circumstances. 

A couple of quick examples…I have nearly a thousand friends on Facebook.  One morning I checked

my status feed and two of my completely unrelated friends had posted the same verse only seconds apart.  And both statuses had shown up on my feed.  The verses they wrote spoke to God’s faithfulness and very specifically to what was happening.  I thought, “Yea…that was kind of cool…”

Then a couple of days later another friend wrote me and shared a verse with me.  After thanking her I went back to my feed on Facebook and the first status I saw was that same verse being shared by another friend.  Again, the passage spoke directly to my situation.

And then finally on the Sunday, one of the young guys in our church asked if he could talk to me.  I’d had a difficult weekend with everything going on and really I just wanted to go home.  But I said sure, no problem.  I figured it was just going to be a whatever conversation. 

He took me outside and promptly asked if we could pray before talking.  I was like, “Uh…okay…” Inside my heart was starting to sink and all I could think of was, “Man…what’s gone wrong now?”

After praying, my friend started to share how, all day Saturday he’d felt this frustrating and a deep sadness.  He couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.  There was no reason for it.  He started praying and asking God why this was happening.  Finally in the evening he said that God spoke to his heart and explained that this was a message for me.  God wanted him to understand what I was going through and then to also explain that this was God’s heart for the situation as well. 

He went on to affirm the ministry and what I was doing here (I’d had more than a few “What am I doing wrong?” moments through all of this).  Then the verse he gave me was Matt. 11:28 “Come to

me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

The cool thing about this was that I hadn’t talked to Facu (yes…that’s his name) in over a month.  He

had no idea that I was having any kind of issue at all.  I’m pretty good at keeping my game face on when I’m in public, so as far as he knew, everything was all sunshine and flowers.  But he felt strongly that God was speaking this message to me, so he stepped out in faith and shared it with me.

He had no idea how much it would mean to me.

Back to the situation with our young friend who was leaving the house.  Monday rolled around and this fellow called me to let me know he was packing his things to leave.  So I went over to the house to see him before he left.  I sat there and chatted with him as he gathered his things. 

Finally the moment came and everything was ready.  I asked him if I could pray with him before he left.  He said that would be fine.  I knew that I’d seen God at work in his heart throughout the week and even though I was definitely sad, I felt a peace about the situation. 

After we prayed, my young friend asked me if I wanted to know why everything had happened.  I said of course, if he wanted to tell me.  He proceeded to open up more than he ever had before.  He talked about his life and choices and why he’d done what he’d done.  He asked if there was any chance he could have another opportunity.

I told him that if it was up to me there would be no problem.  But his actions had affected other people in the house as well.  He sat for a moment and then asked if it was alright with me if he spoke with Maribel and the guys and explained that he truly wanted to change his life.  I told him it was okay with me. 

So he did. 

If you know this culture at all, you understand that for a guy here (okay…maybe everywhere…but especially here) talking about personal issues and asking for forgiveness is not something that comes easily.  But that’s exactly what he did.  And everyone agreed that he should be shown grace and given another chance.

Since then?  He’s been a different kid.  Only God truly knows what’s happening in someone’s heart.  But as far as I can see he’s sincerely seeking after a deeper relationship with God.  It’s been pretty cool to see.  He’s much more at peace and there’s a definite joy in him that wasn’t there before.

So that’s what happened.  Thank you for praying!  I know many of you were, and it made a difference.  God was very faithful and we’re experiencing all the blessings that come from that faithfulness.

Thanks for taking the time to read all of this!  I don’t always respond but really appreciated the support and encouraging notes many of you wrote when this was happening. 

Come back soon and I promise it won’t be another month before I write something!   =)

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God is faithful...

I have a feeling this might be one of those rather vague “I can’t exactly talk about what’s going on” posts that don’t really help very much.  But I also feel like I’ve been asking for prayer a lot lately without really responding as to what ended up happening. 

All I can say is bear with me if you can.  Hopefully it’s not going to come across too melodramatic. 

Let me start by saying that in two weeks I’ll be celebrating (in my head anyhow) 20 years of ministry.  Which is beyond weird to me.  I’m pretty sure there were people in my first church that didn’t give me six months when I started.  Huh…maybe in my second church too.  Come to think of it probably in this ministry too.  Funny that…

Over these past two decades (seriously…holy cow) I’ve seen a lot of friends who started out in ministry with me, move on to other things.  Some left because of personal problems.  But others simply said they needed a break for six months or so.  They got “real” jobs and then never went back.  I always wondered about that…how that happens.  I’m not sure I completely understood it. 

Well…until these last couple of weeks.  I think I get it.  Or at the very least, I understand why I might possibly leave ministry.  Let’s be clear here…I’m not leaving ministry.  At least not tonight…or probably tomorrow.  Talk to me Monday and we’ll see.

Speaking only for myself…I’m feeling kind of weary of feeling the responsibility of always trying to fix someone.  Hah…that’s sounds about as egotistical as it comes.  Once again, to be clear, I’m fully aware that it’s only God who fixes people.  A hundred percent I understand this. 

But as a pastor/missionary/person who’s supposed to help people, you’re always thinking about what needs to happen in someone’s life…to discern how you could be used by God to facilitate healing in that person.  What’s the situation…where did the pain come from…what needs to happen for healing to take place. 

And speaking for myself I tend to jump in emotionally with both feet so that probably doesn't help either. 

In reality, it’s true of all of us.  We all have that responsibility to seek to be used by God to serve and minister those who are suffering or struggling.  I suppose as a pastor/missionary/person who’s supposed to help people it just becomes that more intense since it’s your “job” so to speak.

And then, of course, when you choose to live with the people you’ve been called to serve and help…it adds an entirely new level of intensity.

Over the past year and a half I watched a young guy in the house who I care deeply for, and who once felt God calling him to ministry, slowly choose to walk away.  Today I asked him to leave.  Hardest decision of my life.  And that’s all I really have to say about that.

Well…except for this.  I’ve never been more convinced of the faithfulness of God.  He went out of his way to show me He cared and was involved. 

This has been taken out of my hands but it’s still fully in God’s hands.  And if I know anything, I know it’s not the end of the story. 

Thank you for praying.  And if you could please continue to do so.  Lots of difficult and sad days to come.
 

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Ken's new place...

So...I haven't been here at the blog lately.  Which is okay.  It's summer in Canada.  You all have better things to do than sit inside and read this blog.  Go out and play!

For those of you who don't have anything better to do.  Here's why I haven't been here...

I BOUGHT AN APARTMENT! 

That's right...thanks to the generosity of some friends in Canada...I'm a land owner.  Or at least a floor owner.  There's really no land involved. 

It's funny...for an apartment that's new and never been lived in...there's a surprising amount of work involved getting the place ready.  Mostly painting I guess.  Like all good Bolivian houses/apartments it came in white.  I explained to the guys that most Canadians don't like their houses white.  When they asked why I made something up about being tired of too much snow and the colour of our skins.  Sorry dark people but the guys don't really get that there are more than just white people in Canada.

Anyhow...I've been painting and trying to find cheap furniture and light fixtures and where the heck do you buy a water heater in a country that doesn't really do water heaters.

But I'm getting there.  Tomorrow Yimy starts installing the lights and if I can manage to not get distracted and paint for longer than ten minutes at a time...I might almost be ready to move in next week.  Of course that's assuming I can find furniture and all that.  For a supposedly cheap country everything is surprisingly expensive.  A lot has changed in the past couple of years.  Even the stuff in the market that looks like somebody built in their backyard is pricey.  So...still trying to figure out what I'm going to do about that.

Enough talk...here are a few before pictures.  No after pictures...but the after isn't done yet.  So...soon...

The living room/dining room

(view from the front door).

Kitchen...

Bedroom (view from the door)...

Bedroom (looking towards the deck)...

The deck (from the living room) looking

towards the bedroom...

View of the park across the street...

Ken in his new house...

So that's the place...or at least a couple of weeks ago it looked like that.  It's a little different now.  Like I said, those pictuers are coming. 

Some things I'm excited about...

It's on the fifth floor and I'm pumped that the ants won't find me for at least three years.  Also, all the taps (kitchen AND bathroom) have hot water!  Or...they will...once I find a hot water heater.  There's more than one electrical plug per room AND I have closets for the first time in my adult life (I've never lived in a house that actually had closets). 

Oh yea...and I'm the only one who will be living there.  That's never happened to me before either.

Thanks so much to all of you who made this possible!  I've been dreaming of this for a long time...  =)  Feel free to come visit!  I have a spare room.  It has no bed in it, but still...



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Home again...

I’ve been back in Bolivia for either nineteen or twenty two days depending if you count from the day I actually arrived here or the day everyone mistakenly went to the airport to pick me up.  We’re still not exactly sure how that happened.  But once Maribel got her “Thanks for putting up with the guys for five weeks” gift (we split the price of a laptop)…she was pretty much fine.  Maribel’s gifts are getting bigger and better each year.  I know what she does for me and I don’t want to lose her.  Haha…I think she also knows this. 

Everyone's been asking how my trip was and how things are going now that I'm back. And by everyone I mostly mean my mom. At any rate I figured I'd jot a few things down and let you all (mom) know how it’s going.

The trip was actually one of my more uneventful travel experiences.  I had the chance to visit some friends and family in Ontario/upstate New York on my way through, which was great.  Plus I had supper with my 98 year old Grandma who looks amazing.  We had pizza and wings. 

The only travel stress I had was the usual “Are my bags over weight?  Are they going to look closely at my 46 pound carry on?”  That’s always the challenge.  Even after I manage to get my suitcases checked in, there’s always the fear that some keener at the gate is going to realize my carry-on luggage is perhaps a little weightier than it should be and make me check it too. 

This year that stress lasted until the plane was in the air.  The plane was really full and they were asking people to only put one of their bags in the overhead compartment.  My second bag was just as large as my first and there was no way it was going to fit under my seat.  So when no one was looking I put both of them in the overhead compartment.  Then I stuck my head in my book and ignored the flight attendants comments about the “huge shopping bag” and how it was “seriously heavy” as they tried to maneuver more bags into a somewhat limited space.  I felt guilty, but obviously not guilty enough.

My only other “oops” moment was when my carry on (with my laptop and the new laptop for Maribel) flipped off the top of my stack of luggage on the wheely cart at the airport and landed on the floor…and then as I watched, the next 50 pound bag on the stack rolled off and landed on top of it. 

As it turns out, laptop computers don’t like having 50 pound duffle bags dropped on top of them. 

Maribel’s laptop survived fine, but mine didn’t.  The screen broke.  I didn’t even know that was possible.  There are lines that look like lightning strikes across one side.  Which, in other circumstances, would be cool.  At first they were mostly clear and you really only saw them when you jiggled the computer and then they looked like water ripples.  Also…sort of cool.  Now, however, they’ve turned black and are kind of annoying and distracting.  And they’re spreading.  It doesn’t bode well…

My first week back was definitely the honeymoon week and we all enjoyed each other’s company and life was mostly smiles and chuckles.  When I say first week I actually mean first five days ‘cause we didn’t quite make the week before reality returned and life as a family of fourteen smacked me upside the head.  Ah…those five weeks in Canada as a once again single guy with no responsibilities….

But life is what it is, and of course God is faithful and we always manage to work our way through the grumpiness with a few extra doses of patience and God-given strength.  I do see a lot of growth in the guys, which is why, I think, it’s tougher when someone throws attitude around or takes a major header into some sin issue that I thought was long gone. 

It also didn’t help that my first week back it rained…a lot.  And then rained some more.  As well, because my room was mostly closed up while I was home in Canada, there wasn’t much air circulation and lots of things in my room molded.  Shoes, leather sandals, my straw boats from La Paz, books…the wall…  I’m still finding mold on things. 

Ah life...

Anyhow, a couple of prayer requests before I go. 

There are a couple of guys we know and work with who are still really struggling with their addictions and pain from their pasts.  I can see God healing them, but it’s definitely a battle.  If you could pray for strength and wisdom for them, that’d be great.

Pray for peace and stability and a sense of God’s presence in the house as well.  Some of the guys don’t always think through their actions and how they affect others.  They throw attitude and say dumb things and then when they feel better they think everything is fine.  They forget that what they did and said had consequences.  So pray that they start to think more about others and have the wisdom to ask for forgiveness when they need to.

And finally…I NEED TO SELL MY OLD TRUCK.  I mean, I really, REALLY need to sell it.  I need the money and I’m tired of dealing with that silly thing.  It looks good and has nice, new mudder tires on it…so it should go.  Unfortunately it’s not a good time to sell.  Nothing is moving much.  Please pray that it goes soon!  I like buying trucks.  I don’t like selling them.

Thanks everyone!  Tune in here again soon and I might have some cool news to share…  =)

Oh…and funny story for the day.  Last Friday I was driving people home from El Jordan’s monthly church service and I ended up in an area of town I don’t know very well.  The last person to be dropped off was a little old Grandma who was pretty darn excited to be riding in a nice truck. Together we bounced along down some somewhat, shall we say, dicey roads.  With the rain I mentioned there were huge ruts everywhere. 

All of a sudden, as I drove through what I thought was just another deep rut, the front end of the truck dropped and my front two tires entered into what, by the smell of things, was a pit of raw sewage.  I mean really, really vile raw sewage.  I seem to have a habit of doing this.  This time was infinitely worse though.

All I can say is that these are the moments that do wonders for my prayer life.  I pushed the button on my dash to put the truck into four wheel drive and felt a rush of unparralleled thankfulness to the wonderful folks at Toyota who invented the push-button four wheel drive…as compared to my first truck where you had to get out and manually lock the wheel hubs.  Let’s just take a moment to imagine that scenario shall we. 

It took a few tries and some serious prayer (I kind of get the sense that God was enjoying this little moment and let me sweat a little just for fun) and then the rear tires caught and pulled us out.

I have never been so happy in my entire life.  Little Grandma seemed to enjoy the excitement as well.  I’m not sure she totally got what was going on, but she had a big smile on her face and an unending commentary running the entire time that I didn’t understand a word of.  I think we bonded.

My front tires still smell like sewage and the guys who share the room that has the window right by where I park my truck aren’t overly impressed.  But life is what it is.

Live the adventure people… 

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La Jornada in 2012

The lastest video of life at our house...



Forty hours of editing for a four minute video.  =)  But still fun!
 
Hope you enjoy it...

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Driving in Santa Cruz...

Just a quick little video I took with my phone to show you what driving down here can be like.  I edited it down to three minutes from the twenty minutes it took. 



Sure it's a gong show.  But after awhile there's a certain entertainment factor that kicks in and you just have to sit back and go with it. 

Besides...it keeps life interesting...
 

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Prayer Request

I'm dealing with one of those situations where I can't say too much.  It's all personal to someone.  But I'm finding it incredibly difficult to sort out in my head what's true and what's not.  I've gotten caught off guard a few times in the past couple of months and it's made me skittish. 

I want to believe the young guy I'm working with.  But...my heart says he might not be telling the truth.  And it's kind of a serious situation.  The truth needs to come out for everyone's sake. 

If you can pray about this with me, I'd appreciate it.  Learning to trust can be difficult no matter who you are, but it's an even greater obstacle when you never had that opportunity at a young age.

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Ah Subway...once again you toy with my heart.

I really do appreciate when someone down here tries to get it right.  And to clarify, I'm talking about things like restaurants and business services and whatnot.  Not things like character development or learning to make good decisions.  Of course I'm happy when someone does that...goes without saying.  It's kind of what I do here.

But living in a third world country away from your home culture has it's challenges and struggles somedays.  So when there's a restaurant or business that clicks with you and reminds you of home...it's nice.  I'm not advocating that Bolivia become North American or anything (heaven forbid)...but once in awhile it's nice to eat food that tastes like it looks like it should. 

Which brings me to Subway.  I love Subway.  I mean...I really, really LOVE Subway.  It's the first place I go when I hit the airport in Miami.  When I lived in Saskatoon there was a Subway a block and a half from my house and the "Sandwich Artist" kid behind the counter knew my order.  I'm sure I ate there a least twice a week (okay...maybe more).

So when Subway opened in Santa Cruz you can imagine my reaction.  The gong of joy in my heart rang loud and true.  I'm sure my mouth dropped open the day I saw that glorious sign and if I was a person who cried I would have cried huge, wet tears of happiness. 

But sadly, as with many things in life and in Bolivia...it didn't last.  I went a few times and eventually the pang of disappointment was too much and I stopped going.  It just wasn't the same.  It's been long enough now since I've gone that I've almost gotten over the slight pain I feel in my heart every time I drive past a Subway sign. 

Which brings me to Monday night.  I was at the airport dropping off a couple of my friends.  One of them, Jeremy (who's just freshly arrived from the States and hasn't had time to become jaded yet) commented on the fresh, happy smell of baking bread coming from the airport's nearby Subway store.  Maybe it was his naive excitement or maybe it was my age induced memory loss...but after my friends got on their plane, I meandered past Subway's little corner. 

The thing is...it looks the same.  I mean exactly the same.  They even got rid of their McDonald style plastic tables and put in those lounge chairs and little short coffee tables that no one could possibly eat a sub at without being uncomfortably hunched over...just like in North America!  "Look!" my heart said, "Surely it'll taste the same now!  They have the same stupid tables and chairs!"

So I got in line. 

I faltered momentarily when I saw the menu and prices and realized I was about to spend twice what a normal plate of food costs here.  But then I watched as my favourite Parmesano Orégano bread came freshly out of the oven...and I caved to tempation and desire. 

I made it past the meat and cheese selection fairly unscathed.  I wasn't thrilled with the three little pieces of ham or the one slice of cheese that adorned each half of my sandwich.  But I decided I could live with that.

Lettuce is lettuce.  So whatever.

Then I asked for a few onions.  I'm not a huge onion fan, so honestly... I was very clear on "a few!"  The girl hesitated for a moment as if she couldn't understand why I would say that and then procceded to put as many sliced onions on the sandwich as there was lettuce on the thing.  Seriously.  When I later walked through the airport I'm sure people wondered at the the smell of onions wafting behind me... 

Okay whatever, I can pick them off.

Then came green peppers.  I really like green peppers.  Always have.  My "Sandwich Artist" kid (yea, I kind of enoy writing that) in Saskatoon would load up my sub so much that you could eat the thing without leaving great chunks of pepper behind. 

So I winced slightly at the sad, two little pieces of green pepper she carefully laid side by side on each half of the sandwich.  Which is weird 'cause it's not like green peppers are so much more rare and expensive than the stupid onions.  But whatever.

The tomatoes looked kind of dicey so I skipped them and went straight to the olives.  I also like pickles but I learned long ago that Bolivian pickles bear no resemblance to real pickles in any way whatsoever.  Except maybe that they're green.  But nothing else. 

So yea...the olives.  No lie, the girl counted out four pieces of olive for each half.  And I'm not even talking about olive slices here.  I'm talking about a slice of olive cut in half.  So...a piece.

After carefully placing each of the four pieces of olive on the sandwich she hesitated and then carefully put on one more "piece" of olive on each half.  Oh, the generosity of it all.  Warms my heart it does.

I skipped the bacon.  I could say that it's bad for my heart, but we all know I couldn't really care less about that.  Reality is...a floppy, half-cooked slice of pork just doesn't really help improve my sub sandwich experience at all.  I know, I KNOW...it's bacon!  How can you ruin bacon?  But as it turns out, you really can.

Then with a dribble (and I do mean dribble) of sweet onion sauce,  I was on my way.  I did break with form and tradition here and asked for another dribble of sauce.  She grudginly complied.  But her heart wasn't in it.

I wish I could convey what it's like to then eat the above described sandwich.  It's kind of like eating the ghost of a memory.  I'm not sure what that means exactly but wow, let's be honest...that's some impressive alliteration.  It's like your mouth almost remembers and recognizes what you're eating...but just not quite...

Granted the bread is pretty good.  No complaints there.  If you squish the sandwich around in your mouth a bit and try your darndest to ignore the overpowering flavour of onions...you can almost catch the ham and cheese in there.  The flavour of green pepper is a joke and the olives?  A distant memory...

And so...once again...my heart has become jaded and cold.  Thanks you Bolivian Subway.  Fortunately, the lack of a good sub sandwich isn't going to exactly impact my life in any substancial way.  And in three weeks I'll be passing through Miami and come hurricanes or floods or South Beach gangsta dudes with their Cadilac Escalades...I'm eating a freaking Subway Melt with pickles and olives and bacon.

Wow...this is a really long post about a sandwich.  I should maybe have mentioned that at the begining...

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One of those days...

Once again the SCS team has come and gone.  And once again I had an excellent time with them.  We always have fun.  At least that's how I remember it.  Hopefully they feel the same. 

For some reason though, in the middle of those good, happy times, there are always moments when you have to choose to either laugh about what's going down...or you hit the nearest person with a shovel. 

Most days I choose to laugh.

Last Monday was one of those days.  We were working at fixing up the house of a lady from our church.  It was a great project and I was excited to get it done.  But it just seemed like everything that could go wrong that day did.

It's tough keeping twenty eight people busy.  Yimy and I were running around getting supplies and trying to keep things organized.  We accidentally bought four times too much plastic for one of the projects (at about $80 a roll).  Then the brakes went on the truck (I looked in the mirror and there was smoke POURING out from the rear tire wells). 

And then as we limped back to the work site in the truck, we found our road was closed.  Workers had dug a big trench across the street.  We bumped and jostled our way down a side road until we came to a cross road.  There was a big muddy spot that we had to get through and Yimy hesitated (he was driving).  He suggested that we turn around and go back and find another way. 

But the team was waiting and I didn't have much patience left at that point.  So I just said, "Vamos Yimy!  Cuatro por cuatro!" ("Come on Yimy!  Four wheel drive!")

Yea...dumber words were never spoken.  We drove into what turned out to be a much deeper mud hole that we'd anticipated. 

Oh...did I say mud hole?  Raw sewage hole would be more appropriate.  Yimy just looked over at me and gave me that classic "I told you so" look.  I rolled my eyes and told him to move so I could drive.  I figured I'd show him how it was done.

Yea...not so much. 

We weren't going anywhere.  The undercarriage of the truck was resting on the ground.  So Yimy hoofed it back to where the team was to get us some help.  I just sat there in the truck while everyone drove by and judged me and smirked at what an idiot the gringo was.  I burried my head in a magazine and didn't make eye contact.

Eventually some help arrived from the team and they gave it their best.  But there wasn't much they could do.  After awhile, we managed to flag down a big truck who backed up to us and yanked us out with no real effort.  Then he proceeded to drive right through the mess as soon as we were out of the way.  Yea, yea...whatever.

Anyhow...here are a couple of picks I snapped on my phone.  They make me laugh. 

Now.

Outstanding...

Digging...

More digging...

Good effort boys...good effort.

A little bit later back at the house, after everything else that had gone wrong, one of the guys on the team brushed his head against a piece of wire hanging from the ceiling of the house where we were working.  It gave him a shock and it turned out to have live current in it. 

I just shook my head and pretended not to see.  He was fine and his hair was already curly so I figured we were all good.
 
It was just that kind of day...

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