Pictures of the project and the mess that it was
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Pictures of the room before we started painting
So here are the pictures from before our great painting project. More to come as we are still not done with the project.
Iquitos Again
Well, Nelton and I have been back in Iquitos now for a few days, working like crazy on wedding stuff. It's been crazy as we are still uncertain as to what we are to really be doing.
We are getting along great, but see cultural misunderstanding regularly, which really just makes us laugh. For example, we decided we would get matching wedding rings here in Peru, as that is the custom of the land. So we popped into a jeweler to check out the options. I found the perfect rings in all of 5 minutes, Nelton liked them too.
After we decided on them and to my confusion, we left the store. We walked like five steps and I was like, "dude! We are only in the city for two more weeks and we get married in a month. We should get the rings ordered today." Thinking they would take a couple weeks at the least before they came in, as that is how it is in the States. We had changed money that day, but had other plans of how to use it. He said something about that, but I insisted it wasn't a big deal as I thought we would pay for the rings when we picked them up.
We went back to the store, the sweet man named Nelton, complying to my desire. But to my surprise after the lady sized us for the rings, she wrote up a slip, and Nelton had to pay for it all same day we ordered. Opps, my bad, so much for the other (and probably more important plan) Then I was absolutely shocked when the woman said they would be ready the next day!! I laughed so hard when we left, talk about totally not the cultural norm. It was quite funny. Here I thought we needed time for the rings, as we need time for everything else in Peru, but this is the one thing that only takes a day. We both had a laugh about it as he thought I knew it would be that quick.
Wedding Planning? Oh yeah, we should probably start thinking about that? Aug. 7, 2009
Aug. 7, 2009
If it wasn’t obvious before, it’s becoming crystal clear that I am not a typical bride. We are closing in on a month from the wedding, and the only thing we really have nailed down is that we are getting married and what we are wearing. All other details that most brides have neatly spelled out in elaborate wedding planners, carefully guarded by their own personal planner, are still for us specifics to be pinned down.
The plan was to be in Iquitos from the end of July to the arrival of the next team at the end of August to plan a wedding. Well, here we are, closing out the first week of August, and have not made it back to the city. We are looking at tomorrow evening to start that venture. Then we will have 15 days to plan the event. I am so at peace and okay with everything. I figure, the day will arrive and what’s going to happen is going to happen anyway, so why worry? The most important thing to me is that I marry the man I love in a way that brings glory to God, the rest are just details. Sure, it would be nice to have some decorations and whatnot, but I’m not going to stress about it.
I think the thing that cracks me up the most about it is how much goes into weddings in the United States. I was laughing with Paulette today about the craziness of it all. I was at the doctor right before moving the Peru. The receptionist was asking questions about my last check up, and realized I was moving out of the country and getting married. She started telling me all about her daughters wedding plans and how much of a job it is, all the details, flowers, oh the expense of the flowers alone. She couldn’t believe it. On the way out I wished her luck with her upcoming wedding, assuming it was in a month or two. She said something to the effect of, “Oh, thanks. We still have a year, but we need it.” A year? And the flowers are already ordered.
I am sure I have apologized to Nelton at least 4 times that I will not be the hott, breath-taking, or sexy bride I always imagined I’d be. While most brides are tanning, doing skin treatments, and this, that, and the other, I’m anything be beautifying my body. I am learning to battle off the mosquitos, horseflies, nats, and chiggers without repellant. My legs are covered with little red spots and dots, and I’ve developed a daily ritual of squeezing out any unwanted contents. I am anything but tan, because I wear pants and often long sleeves to keep the bugs away. I have been getting more pimples than usual, I’m sure it has something to do with the water, or the dirt that flies in the city. By the end of each day, my fingernails have collected dirt. My hair is becoming more and more coarse daily due to more than a month of bathing in the river or with its water.
I don’t say any of this by way of complaining or for you to feel sorry for me. I wouldn’t have it any other way! If nothing else, I hope to gain as many laughs as I myself have gained by the comparison of what I myself always dreamed of and the way reality is actually being lived out. Which, by the way is far better than my dreams ever painted.
And I don’t mean to be down on American weddings, I love weddings. I think it’s wonderful. If nothing else it’s something I remember Dr. Park always saying “Don’t focus so much on the wedding that you forget about the marriage.” I think that happens way too much in the States, and hopefully this can be a good reminder of what’s the most important when it comes to the marital covenant.
If it wasn’t obvious before, it’s becoming crystal clear that I am not a typical bride. We are closing in on a month from the wedding, and the only thing we really have nailed down is that we are getting married and what we are wearing. All other details that most brides have neatly spelled out in elaborate wedding planners, carefully guarded by their own personal planner, are still for us specifics to be pinned down.
The plan was to be in Iquitos from the end of July to the arrival of the next team at the end of August to plan a wedding. Well, here we are, closing out the first week of August, and have not made it back to the city. We are looking at tomorrow evening to start that venture. Then we will have 15 days to plan the event. I am so at peace and okay with everything. I figure, the day will arrive and what’s going to happen is going to happen anyway, so why worry? The most important thing to me is that I marry the man I love in a way that brings glory to God, the rest are just details. Sure, it would be nice to have some decorations and whatnot, but I’m not going to stress about it.
I think the thing that cracks me up the most about it is how much goes into weddings in the United States. I was laughing with Paulette today about the craziness of it all. I was at the doctor right before moving the Peru. The receptionist was asking questions about my last check up, and realized I was moving out of the country and getting married. She started telling me all about her daughters wedding plans and how much of a job it is, all the details, flowers, oh the expense of the flowers alone. She couldn’t believe it. On the way out I wished her luck with her upcoming wedding, assuming it was in a month or two. She said something to the effect of, “Oh, thanks. We still have a year, but we need it.” A year? And the flowers are already ordered.
I am sure I have apologized to Nelton at least 4 times that I will not be the hott, breath-taking, or sexy bride I always imagined I’d be. While most brides are tanning, doing skin treatments, and this, that, and the other, I’m anything be beautifying my body. I am learning to battle off the mosquitos, horseflies, nats, and chiggers without repellant. My legs are covered with little red spots and dots, and I’ve developed a daily ritual of squeezing out any unwanted contents. I am anything but tan, because I wear pants and often long sleeves to keep the bugs away. I have been getting more pimples than usual, I’m sure it has something to do with the water, or the dirt that flies in the city. By the end of each day, my fingernails have collected dirt. My hair is becoming more and more coarse daily due to more than a month of bathing in the river or with its water.
I don’t say any of this by way of complaining or for you to feel sorry for me. I wouldn’t have it any other way! If nothing else, I hope to gain as many laughs as I myself have gained by the comparison of what I myself always dreamed of and the way reality is actually being lived out. Which, by the way is far better than my dreams ever painted.
And I don’t mean to be down on American weddings, I love weddings. I think it’s wonderful. If nothing else it’s something I remember Dr. Park always saying “Don’t focus so much on the wedding that you forget about the marriage.” I think that happens way too much in the States, and hopefully this can be a good reminder of what’s the most important when it comes to the marital covenant.
A Future and A Hope
Aug. 5th, 2009
No matter where we arrive, Iquitos or the jungle, there is always news to be received. In the city, we get the pleasure of knowing what is going on back home in the USA with our loved ones. Such as the news that my little brother got engaged! Congratulations Timothy and Erica!! When we get back to the jungle, there is always something that has transpired in our absence. Unfortunately, the news out here this time was not as good as the news from home.
Dora was a 12 year old girl I met last summer. She traveled with us on one of our ministry trips to help in the kitchen. She was quite, shy, reserved, and kept her distance. She was a gril who caught my attention. It’s not uncommon for people here to be quite or reserved, distant or shy, those traits are exhibited in almost every person, so that wasn’t unique to her personhood. I’m the odd ball out because of my outgoing unrestrained exuberance, and often find it difficult to break through the mask and see the real person. It was no exception with the girl named Dora.
Yet, I distinctly remember desiring to find out what Dora was all about, I wanted to link with her. Especially after finding out she was only 12. I managed to be unsuccessful for quite sometime, until I discovered my front porch art ministry mid-summer. I had brought colored pencils and plain paper and found a crowd of kids easily drawn anytime I would break them out.
On the first occasion we had art, the first kid to complete his drawing presented me a picture of a house. I encouraged him and praised him for his drawing, he swelled with pride and satisfaction at his accomplishment. It wasn’t long before the next kid produced his drawing, a house. This continued through all 25 kids, until I had a reasonable collection of jungle houses in a variety of colors and forms. They must have figured the American liked houses. I tried to encourage the kids to use their imaginations and draw something else, but no one ventured outside of the norm set by that first child, except Dora.
Dora had a gift for art. She would always use her imagination and draw spectacular pictures. This was were we began to connect. At the start of it all, she would bring her drawings to me, a little bashful, only to surprise me with how good they were. She took the praise to heart and continued to gain confidence and by the time I left, she was not bashful whatsoever about showing me the pieces she had created.
I was looking forward to seeing her again and continuing our relationship, however, she was in one of the families that left Estreno. One night on the trip with the D.R. team after the service in a neighboring village, I heard someone call my name, which surprised me because I didn’t know anyone in that village. As I got closer I realized it was Dora! However, we were heading to the boat to leave, so I could not visit with her. I saw her briefly on one other day, but no other contact. I only anticipated their family moving back to town when the school got up and going.
The news that we received upon arriving in Estreno was that the family had moved back. A man in the village took an interest in Dora, now only 13, and asked permission from her father to take her as his wife. Permission was granted and so Dora was taken back to the neighboring village as this man’s wife, shattering her dream of receiving and education and someday becoming a doctor. Her occupation would now be one of bearing and raising children, taking on the burden of the household chores, and pleasing the man who got her.
I am troubled in my spirit for the lifestyle in the jungle. Dora is not the first girl who has been given as a wife to a man. For the most part, girls are burdens to their families out here. They given away with relative ease because it means one less mouth to feed and one less person to provide for. The males on the other hand seem to be more valued because they are providers in the families.
Many girls have the only aspiration of finding a man who can take care of them, and then start families of their own. When their periods start, they are considered open game for men. What does this mean? One day they are a girl, the next they are thrust into the world of womanhood with no development in between.
Another girl in our community is in love with the Lord. I have connected with her heart since my first time here and had a vision of seeing her and others like her become missionaries to other lands. Her mother is a believer, but I’m not even sure what that means here anymore. No doubt, it means that you show up to church when the doors are open and worship, which they do well. But the faith hasn’t found it’s way to spill out into the lifestyle of the people. I do suppose, if I am to be realistic, that this is a global problem.
Anyway, there was a young man in the community, at least 24 years old, the girl, a mere 14. The mom desperately wanted her daughter to be with the man, as he had a good job. She didn’t really want anything to do with it. I learned today that the mom would go so far as allowing the man to go to her in her room when he wanted!
Giving the girls away at a young age only depicts the lines of the picture, the color often comes in black and blue. I have not yet witnessed the abuse, I’m not sure if anyone really witnesses it when it happens outside their home, or if they only know it because they have lived it. The assurance of abuse for a Peruvian woman or child can be likened with the average American’s assurance that they will have their next meal with no concern of where it will come from.
This is only confirmed by stories I have had relayed to me, or by the way I watch and hear Ketty minister to the women in women’s meetings. She talks and relates to them about abuse like American women go on about their appearance or the latest fashion. There isn’t yet a freedom for the women to talk about it and open up. And when one does, it’s all facts, it’s just what happens.
I would venture to say alcoholism is a partial contributor to the abuse, but the main cause of its existence is probably by and large due to the acceptance of it. Like I said, it’s just what happens.
I am happy to report that in our village abuse isn’t common, but then again, we don’t live in every house. There’s no telling what goes on behind closed doors. It was in our village that the chief murdered his wife.
Now for the better news:
Willie has had a vision of establishing a secondary school for quite sometime now. They are currently in need of a teacher. Paulette knows I enjoy teaching and asked me if I would be interesting in filling in as the teacher after Nelton and I get married. I accepted without hesitation. Willie and I went over a lot of the material and I started to grow accustomed to it. We are using the “School of Tomorrow” system, and my homeschooling experience will help me to run the way the school works. In addition, the fact that I have a degree helps me with the government. So I guess degrees come in handy, even out here in the jungle!
The greatest thing about this school is that it gives the people a hope to go beyond a 5th grade education and it gives us an opportunity to connect with the kids on a deep level. Plus, of my six students, four of them are supposed to be girls! Which will give them an opportunity to break away from years of the way life was.
Please, Please, Please, pray with me for this opportunity. Pray for my teaching, that it will be more than just showing up and performing duties, but that I will have the creativity to really connect with these kids and get into their lives. Pray for the girls that are in it, that they will be allowed to stay and finnish, and that God would protect them from being married off right away.
No matter where we arrive, Iquitos or the jungle, there is always news to be received. In the city, we get the pleasure of knowing what is going on back home in the USA with our loved ones. Such as the news that my little brother got engaged! Congratulations Timothy and Erica!! When we get back to the jungle, there is always something that has transpired in our absence. Unfortunately, the news out here this time was not as good as the news from home.
Dora was a 12 year old girl I met last summer. She traveled with us on one of our ministry trips to help in the kitchen. She was quite, shy, reserved, and kept her distance. She was a gril who caught my attention. It’s not uncommon for people here to be quite or reserved, distant or shy, those traits are exhibited in almost every person, so that wasn’t unique to her personhood. I’m the odd ball out because of my outgoing unrestrained exuberance, and often find it difficult to break through the mask and see the real person. It was no exception with the girl named Dora.
Yet, I distinctly remember desiring to find out what Dora was all about, I wanted to link with her. Especially after finding out she was only 12. I managed to be unsuccessful for quite sometime, until I discovered my front porch art ministry mid-summer. I had brought colored pencils and plain paper and found a crowd of kids easily drawn anytime I would break them out.
On the first occasion we had art, the first kid to complete his drawing presented me a picture of a house. I encouraged him and praised him for his drawing, he swelled with pride and satisfaction at his accomplishment. It wasn’t long before the next kid produced his drawing, a house. This continued through all 25 kids, until I had a reasonable collection of jungle houses in a variety of colors and forms. They must have figured the American liked houses. I tried to encourage the kids to use their imaginations and draw something else, but no one ventured outside of the norm set by that first child, except Dora.
Dora had a gift for art. She would always use her imagination and draw spectacular pictures. This was were we began to connect. At the start of it all, she would bring her drawings to me, a little bashful, only to surprise me with how good they were. She took the praise to heart and continued to gain confidence and by the time I left, she was not bashful whatsoever about showing me the pieces she had created.
I was looking forward to seeing her again and continuing our relationship, however, she was in one of the families that left Estreno. One night on the trip with the D.R. team after the service in a neighboring village, I heard someone call my name, which surprised me because I didn’t know anyone in that village. As I got closer I realized it was Dora! However, we were heading to the boat to leave, so I could not visit with her. I saw her briefly on one other day, but no other contact. I only anticipated their family moving back to town when the school got up and going.
The news that we received upon arriving in Estreno was that the family had moved back. A man in the village took an interest in Dora, now only 13, and asked permission from her father to take her as his wife. Permission was granted and so Dora was taken back to the neighboring village as this man’s wife, shattering her dream of receiving and education and someday becoming a doctor. Her occupation would now be one of bearing and raising children, taking on the burden of the household chores, and pleasing the man who got her.
I am troubled in my spirit for the lifestyle in the jungle. Dora is not the first girl who has been given as a wife to a man. For the most part, girls are burdens to their families out here. They given away with relative ease because it means one less mouth to feed and one less person to provide for. The males on the other hand seem to be more valued because they are providers in the families.
Many girls have the only aspiration of finding a man who can take care of them, and then start families of their own. When their periods start, they are considered open game for men. What does this mean? One day they are a girl, the next they are thrust into the world of womanhood with no development in between.
Another girl in our community is in love with the Lord. I have connected with her heart since my first time here and had a vision of seeing her and others like her become missionaries to other lands. Her mother is a believer, but I’m not even sure what that means here anymore. No doubt, it means that you show up to church when the doors are open and worship, which they do well. But the faith hasn’t found it’s way to spill out into the lifestyle of the people. I do suppose, if I am to be realistic, that this is a global problem.
Anyway, there was a young man in the community, at least 24 years old, the girl, a mere 14. The mom desperately wanted her daughter to be with the man, as he had a good job. She didn’t really want anything to do with it. I learned today that the mom would go so far as allowing the man to go to her in her room when he wanted!
Giving the girls away at a young age only depicts the lines of the picture, the color often comes in black and blue. I have not yet witnessed the abuse, I’m not sure if anyone really witnesses it when it happens outside their home, or if they only know it because they have lived it. The assurance of abuse for a Peruvian woman or child can be likened with the average American’s assurance that they will have their next meal with no concern of where it will come from.
This is only confirmed by stories I have had relayed to me, or by the way I watch and hear Ketty minister to the women in women’s meetings. She talks and relates to them about abuse like American women go on about their appearance or the latest fashion. There isn’t yet a freedom for the women to talk about it and open up. And when one does, it’s all facts, it’s just what happens.
I would venture to say alcoholism is a partial contributor to the abuse, but the main cause of its existence is probably by and large due to the acceptance of it. Like I said, it’s just what happens.
I am happy to report that in our village abuse isn’t common, but then again, we don’t live in every house. There’s no telling what goes on behind closed doors. It was in our village that the chief murdered his wife.
Now for the better news:
Willie has had a vision of establishing a secondary school for quite sometime now. They are currently in need of a teacher. Paulette knows I enjoy teaching and asked me if I would be interesting in filling in as the teacher after Nelton and I get married. I accepted without hesitation. Willie and I went over a lot of the material and I started to grow accustomed to it. We are using the “School of Tomorrow” system, and my homeschooling experience will help me to run the way the school works. In addition, the fact that I have a degree helps me with the government. So I guess degrees come in handy, even out here in the jungle!
The greatest thing about this school is that it gives the people a hope to go beyond a 5th grade education and it gives us an opportunity to connect with the kids on a deep level. Plus, of my six students, four of them are supposed to be girls! Which will give them an opportunity to break away from years of the way life was.
Please, Please, Please, pray with me for this opportunity. Pray for my teaching, that it will be more than just showing up and performing duties, but that I will have the creativity to really connect with these kids and get into their lives. Pray for the girls that are in it, that they will be allowed to stay and finnish, and that God would protect them from being married off right away.
God’s Protective Hand: Aug. 4th, 2009
We left for the jungle again on Aug. 1st, I think? At any rate, the trip did not go as expected. Our plan was to be up in Arica by the 3rd for the meetings (aug. 3-5th), which was a reasonable goal. However, motor troubles, low water levels, boat troubles, rainstorms, and so on prevented us from reaching our desired destination. The two day trip quickly multiplied to four and we didn’t arrive in Estreno until the afternoon of the 4th.
The trip was both exhausting and relaxing. Through it all, we all had peace that God’s protective hand was at work to keep us from unknown dangers. The problems were seen as “strategic delays.” We still aren’t totally sure why we weren’t able to make it, but it doesn’t matter, we were all at peace.
The exhausting part for me took the form of sickness. For a day and a half to two days it was a mixture of dizziness, short periods of hearing loss and/or blurred vision, fever, diarrhea, headaches, a constant feeling of having to vomit (although I never did), back pain, neck pain, loss of energy, tiredness, and an overall aching body. I felt like I was 90 years old and couldn’t do anything. My life was torn between sleep, misery, pumping down liquids, and bathroom visits.
The relaxing part came in multiple ways. One was during the rainstorm, when we had to anchor the boat because the waves were too dangerous, the wind too strong, and the rain too harsh to carry on. We all sat around and had lunch together while the wind started to die down, but the rain was still pouring. Next thing we knew, Ketty and Rhoda (future sister-in-law, and the new cook), were out for a swim. We had anchored at a beautiful black sand beach. Willie and I didn’t hesitate long before joining them. It was amazing, the water was warm and the sand soft. We ran the beach, swam in the water, and laughed like it was 1985. Nelton’s fairly certain that that little play date contributed to my fever.
Our first day here in Estreno, I came back home and Paulette said she needed to make me aware of something. She was on her way to hang up her laundry out back and something fell only several feet in front of her. It was a large snake, moving rapidly in the opposite direction. She was thankful that God had protected her and showed her that some dangers are more scared of us than us of them.
It was only an hour or so later when her and Bob were out on the front porch and they heard something in the back. Bob checked it out and the snake was back, with his mouth around a large frog. His perch? The shower house once again. What was Paulette doing while they waited for someone to come check it out? Snapping pictures. One of the neighbors got a stick to beat the thing, but it got away. Willie guessed it was a good 6-8 feet long. I named him Boaz, but haven’t actually seen the live creature, only the evidence of his presence which is safely secured in Paulette’s digital camera. She gave me a copy which is posted above.
Gotta love jungle life.
Catching Up: Trip With the Dominican Team : August 3rd, 2009
So it turns out that the last team was not from Costa Rica, but the Dominican Republic. They were a YWAM team, led Glen and Rhoda, missionaries to the DR from Canada. The team consisted of their son, Jason, his friend, Matthew, and four Dominicans: Jose Miguel, Omar, Joel, and Vanessia. Of the Dominicans, only one spoke English, but of course, the missionaries and MK’s were fluent in Spanish, so Spanish was the common language for my first multi-cultural team. Another man, Cliff Russell, an MK raised in Peru, now in his 40’s, was on the trip as well. I do have a very interesting story about him, if you want to hear it, read the next paragraph, if not skip ahead to the following paragraph.
The story of our first encounter with Cliff Russell:
So Nelton and I had gone out to eat for breakfast one day. Suddenly, this tall, built, gray-haired white man walked into the restaurant and was having a conversation with the woman behind the counter about his 20 soles, and he spoke good Spanish. For that reason I couldn’t tell where he was from, he grammar and pronunciation were flawless, so I wasn’t sure that he was American, but to be sure he was not Peruvian. The woman was insisting that his money was false, he was claiming that it was not. I was making mental cultural observations, so I took the opportunity to listen to the “social commentary” (as Dr. Park would call it).
The man waited by the door for a good 5-10 minutes while a teen-aged guy ran around to another store to check out the money or something. When he returned, the lady and almost every waitress in the place hovered around the money talking about it. Then the woman preceded to place it under running water to test it, she pulled it a couple times and it ripped, her proof that it was false.
The woman preceded to bring Nelton in on the whole discussion, the only reason I could imagine is that he was the only male in the building besides to white guy. He too confirmed that he suspected that it was false. The man took the money and left, I was left wondering what the encounter was all about, because I didn’t see him pay with any other money, and I wasn’t even sure he had eaten. I went back to my room and typed out no less than two pages of culture observations to figure the whole scenario out, pin down some culture values, underlying assumptions, or at least form some diagnostic questions. Frankly, the man left me perplexed.
Okay... so fast forward a week, Nelton and I walk into the airport to wait for the Dominican team, when suddenly Nelton asks me, “Who is that?”
I see Willie and respond, “Willie?”
“No, that?” Nelton asks again.
“I think it’s Paulette.”
“No. That other man with them.”
I barely looked before recalling information stored from an earlier conversation with Paulette, “Oh! I think his name is Cliff......Russell?” “No, Bethany, we know him.” I look closer, before Nelton realizes, “It’s the man with the false money!!”
We both laughed, a little surprised that we would ever see him again, and I though, “ohhh this will be interesting.”
He didn’t recognize us, and I wasn’t going to be the one to give away our identity. I was a little surprised when the only seat left on the bus to Nauta was in the back next to him. It was only a couple minutes out of the airport parking lot before I hear Nelton curiously asking, “So whatever happened with the false money?” To which, Cliff freaked out, laughed, went wild saying, “YOU WERE THAT GUY AT THE RESTAURANT!” He preceded to explain the whole deal to Nelton, that he went to the bank and learned all sorts of tips about figuring out what false money looks like and so on. Indeed, his money wasn’t false, there were a couple years when bills were made that were weaker.
Back to the Trip...
The trip itself was pretty structured and scheduled as the YWAM team had several goals to accomplish to meet the requirements for the training program they were in. Consequently, I fell into the background and jumped in where and when I was needed. It was glorious to see how much God has changed me over the past year. The old Bethany would have been freaking out, running from here and there trying to figure out what I could do and working overtime just to stay occupied. The new surrendered Bethany was so relaxed and at peace, trusting God to bring me face to face with the encounters I was to have, and he did.
Paulette confirmed this change, or maybe she first pointed it out, when she confessed to me that it is so refreshing to be around me, because I am so laid back and relaxed, waiting for God to have His way. She was a little nervous about my returning, because she didn’t have much energy to keep up with me. We laughed, because it seems like God brings us through these changes together. It’s not that I have lost my passion or energy for the work of the Lord, I think it’s just a life-changing realization that He is going to do what He will do in His time. He doesn’t need me to complete His work, He graciously allows me to come along and obey what he gives me to do. I think another reason I am more relaxed, unstressed, and not worried is because I am here for longer than two months. This is life now, there is no reason to stress out about seeing results in a short amount of time. I am able to take the proper amount of time to really study the culture and learn the language.
The trip was long, scheduled, and full. We started at the mouth of the river and went to three different villages, one a day. In each village we had children’s ministries at 3:00 pm, women’s and men’s ministry at 4 pm, a soccer game at 5, dinner at 6, then the night service at 7 pm.
After those first three days, we headed up to Estreno, spending a day and a half there before making our way on up river. We visited four different villages, one a day, before going back to Estreno and moving onto Iquitos.
Most of my key highlights had to do with people on our team. I had good conversations with Ketty, Julie, Eric, and others, encouraging them in the face of the trials that had broken out and taking time to just be a listening ear.
I also inherited a bell ministry. Someone had donated those color coordinated bells to the ministry and we whipped them out for the trip. So that was my role. I “taught” the kids the bell songs during the childrens ministry, then I led my bell choir for the night service. It was a riot, and beyond me why I got the ministry as I have little to no experience in the music world. I had a ball though because I’ve always wanted to play something and I was leading my whole little choir.
It was crazy coming back to Estreno, not many of the families have returned, I think maybe only four were there. It felt like a ghost town, but apparently it’s been more populated than before. But in a weird way, it was peaceful, and felt more like coming home than anything.
I did have a great time one afternoon with a couple guys from our team, Jamie and Roy, who are very interested in learning English. We decided that after Nelton and I get married and move back to town, I will have English classes for them. Jamie wants to be a translator for preachers and speakers one day. The future is starting to take shape.
That’s about all I can think of for now... so I’m out.
The story of our first encounter with Cliff Russell:
So Nelton and I had gone out to eat for breakfast one day. Suddenly, this tall, built, gray-haired white man walked into the restaurant and was having a conversation with the woman behind the counter about his 20 soles, and he spoke good Spanish. For that reason I couldn’t tell where he was from, he grammar and pronunciation were flawless, so I wasn’t sure that he was American, but to be sure he was not Peruvian. The woman was insisting that his money was false, he was claiming that it was not. I was making mental cultural observations, so I took the opportunity to listen to the “social commentary” (as Dr. Park would call it).
The man waited by the door for a good 5-10 minutes while a teen-aged guy ran around to another store to check out the money or something. When he returned, the lady and almost every waitress in the place hovered around the money talking about it. Then the woman preceded to place it under running water to test it, she pulled it a couple times and it ripped, her proof that it was false.
The woman preceded to bring Nelton in on the whole discussion, the only reason I could imagine is that he was the only male in the building besides to white guy. He too confirmed that he suspected that it was false. The man took the money and left, I was left wondering what the encounter was all about, because I didn’t see him pay with any other money, and I wasn’t even sure he had eaten. I went back to my room and typed out no less than two pages of culture observations to figure the whole scenario out, pin down some culture values, underlying assumptions, or at least form some diagnostic questions. Frankly, the man left me perplexed.
Okay... so fast forward a week, Nelton and I walk into the airport to wait for the Dominican team, when suddenly Nelton asks me, “Who is that?”
I see Willie and respond, “Willie?”
“No, that?” Nelton asks again.
“I think it’s Paulette.”
“No. That other man with them.”
I barely looked before recalling information stored from an earlier conversation with Paulette, “Oh! I think his name is Cliff......Russell?” “No, Bethany, we know him.” I look closer, before Nelton realizes, “It’s the man with the false money!!”
We both laughed, a little surprised that we would ever see him again, and I though, “ohhh this will be interesting.”
He didn’t recognize us, and I wasn’t going to be the one to give away our identity. I was a little surprised when the only seat left on the bus to Nauta was in the back next to him. It was only a couple minutes out of the airport parking lot before I hear Nelton curiously asking, “So whatever happened with the false money?” To which, Cliff freaked out, laughed, went wild saying, “YOU WERE THAT GUY AT THE RESTAURANT!” He preceded to explain the whole deal to Nelton, that he went to the bank and learned all sorts of tips about figuring out what false money looks like and so on. Indeed, his money wasn’t false, there were a couple years when bills were made that were weaker.
Back to the Trip...
The trip itself was pretty structured and scheduled as the YWAM team had several goals to accomplish to meet the requirements for the training program they were in. Consequently, I fell into the background and jumped in where and when I was needed. It was glorious to see how much God has changed me over the past year. The old Bethany would have been freaking out, running from here and there trying to figure out what I could do and working overtime just to stay occupied. The new surrendered Bethany was so relaxed and at peace, trusting God to bring me face to face with the encounters I was to have, and he did.
Paulette confirmed this change, or maybe she first pointed it out, when she confessed to me that it is so refreshing to be around me, because I am so laid back and relaxed, waiting for God to have His way. She was a little nervous about my returning, because she didn’t have much energy to keep up with me. We laughed, because it seems like God brings us through these changes together. It’s not that I have lost my passion or energy for the work of the Lord, I think it’s just a life-changing realization that He is going to do what He will do in His time. He doesn’t need me to complete His work, He graciously allows me to come along and obey what he gives me to do. I think another reason I am more relaxed, unstressed, and not worried is because I am here for longer than two months. This is life now, there is no reason to stress out about seeing results in a short amount of time. I am able to take the proper amount of time to really study the culture and learn the language.
The trip was long, scheduled, and full. We started at the mouth of the river and went to three different villages, one a day. In each village we had children’s ministries at 3:00 pm, women’s and men’s ministry at 4 pm, a soccer game at 5, dinner at 6, then the night service at 7 pm.
After those first three days, we headed up to Estreno, spending a day and a half there before making our way on up river. We visited four different villages, one a day, before going back to Estreno and moving onto Iquitos.
Most of my key highlights had to do with people on our team. I had good conversations with Ketty, Julie, Eric, and others, encouraging them in the face of the trials that had broken out and taking time to just be a listening ear.
I also inherited a bell ministry. Someone had donated those color coordinated bells to the ministry and we whipped them out for the trip. So that was my role. I “taught” the kids the bell songs during the childrens ministry, then I led my bell choir for the night service. It was a riot, and beyond me why I got the ministry as I have little to no experience in the music world. I had a ball though because I’ve always wanted to play something and I was leading my whole little choir.
It was crazy coming back to Estreno, not many of the families have returned, I think maybe only four were there. It felt like a ghost town, but apparently it’s been more populated than before. But in a weird way, it was peaceful, and felt more like coming home than anything.
I did have a great time one afternoon with a couple guys from our team, Jamie and Roy, who are very interested in learning English. We decided that after Nelton and I get married and move back to town, I will have English classes for them. Jamie wants to be a translator for preachers and speakers one day. The future is starting to take shape.
That’s about all I can think of for now... so I’m out.
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