Pick-pockets, islands, and Aussies

This past week has been pretty eventful. This particular bit of news is older than a week, but exciting nonetheless: On St. Patrick’s Day, our Hopey dog had her puppies! We think she had some difficulty in her delivery (we didn’t observe this process), because only 2 survived. One is all black with a few small white markings, and the other is white, with some tan markings. They both still look a bit like little pigs, but they are very cute little pigs. Our current biggest challenge is to keep the neighbor girls from coming into our yard and putting their silly bands around their small bodies/necks. Things could be much worse. J

For 3 days we visited the island of Tabón to help with the construction of a small church building. We also tore down a LOT of thorn bushes from a public school property, helped prepare meals, and Clay and I even saw a poor pig be castrated (very gross). It was a great little trip, and we enjoyed the family that was hosting us very much. We had an evening of sharing those “too creepy/coincidental to not be G-d” stories, which left us all feeling very undeservedly loved by a very huge G-d. How can it be that the Creator of the beautiful island we were on knows us all so personally when we are so small? I still don’t have an answer for that one.

Crazy little side note: On our way home, on our way to catch our final bus, I felt a movement in my backpack. I turned around to see a man with his hand in my outermost pocket. I said the Chilean equivalent to, “Hey!” and whipped my bag around to the front. The man looked at me as if to say, “What?!” I saw that my pocket was still open, and I thought I had put my camera in there, but it was now gone. The scariest part of this story is that just that morning I had placed the pouch with all of our team’s finances, as well as my own, into that pocket. Praise the L-rd I had moved it for some unknown reason. We traveled the rest of the way home, and I had done a pretty good job of telling myself that there were worse things to be lost than a camera, though I was saddened that I had lost some of our photo memories. However! - the “missing” camera was found in yet another pocket! Nothing was lost, and I learned a good lesson about bus stations. J Eduardo was actually surprised that this was the first time we had problems with that, seeing as we are targets because of our foreign appearance.

The most exciting piece of this week comes in the form of a long story, so prepare ye.

While our team was taking our mid-way break in Bariloche, Argentina, we met a girl at our hostel. Her name is Rebecca, she is 19 years old, is from Australia, and is traveling all of South America by herself. While we were at the hostel, we had some great conversations, and we learned that she was planning to come to our region of Chile near the end of March. We said, “Great! Maybe we can see you again!” Lo and behold, she wrote to us and questioned if she could stay with us for a night as she was passing through. Of course!

Through our conversations, we’ve learned that Rebecca has been to ch-rch in the past, but has been hurt by some people there whose actions don’t match their words. This has caused her to feel very distant from G-d, and to search for something else to fill that place in her. What is interesting to me, though, is that she has been reading a book that includes G-d quite a bit, and came with an especially “coincidental” (I don’t really like that word) story of amazing protection during a visit to Peru where the taxi she and her sister were riding was robbed while they were inside it. These pieces, as well as her good questions made us excited about what G-d might be doing by placing us together again.

She has joined us for the youth group B-bl- lesson, lots of deep conversations, our host brother Nacho’s birthday party, and even stayed for ch-rch on Sunday. One night turned into two, which turned into three. Rebecca just came back from a hike, where she showed us some pictures of her poor blistered feet. She had borrowed her mom’s hiking shoes, which have served her for the past 7 months of traveling, but are a poor fit, and are falling apart (literally - she is about to RE-superglue them back together). During our conversations I sneakily asked her if they have European sizes in Australia, or another size system. I said, “For example, I wear a size 8 ½ or 9 shoe, but that is something like 40 or so in European sizes! That’s a big difference. What size do you wear?” Wouldn’t you know… we wear the same size. I asked her to try on my hiking shoes, and they fit her like a glove. It took some convincing, but  I was finally able to give them to her. She plans to hike a volcano next in her travels, and since I won’t be hiking any volcanos, she clearly needs them more than I do. It makes me think of a few verses. Though it is not quite spot-on, this comes from Matthew 5:40-42, "If you are sued in court and your shirt is taken from you, give your coat, too. If a soldier demands that you carry his gear for a mile, carry it two miles. Give to those who ask, and don’t turn away from those who want to borrow." It is fun to think of all the adventures my shoes may have during their time with Rebecca.

Yesterday (Sunday) after ch-rch, Rebecca was really touched by the service, and Eduardo had been wanting to talk to her for a little while. That evening, Clay (who had been using his knowledge of Spanish to translate things for her - she knows very little), Eduardo, Rebecca, and I sat around the kitchen table talking about G-d’s big love, and how much He loves Rebecca. She was moved to tears, and is interested in walking on the right path again. In addition to her past pains from her church, we’ve had discussions about her family relationships and some hurts that exist there, as well as some ways she has tried to find fulfillment in worldly things, but has been disappointed. At the end of our kitchen table discussion, Eduardo asked if she wanted to say anything. She asked, “Would it be possible to stay longer?” We said, “Of course!”

We aren’t sure how long our friend Rebecca will be staying with us (she is currently asleep on a mattress on my bedroom floor), but we are excited to have her. In addition to her company, Rebecca is a great cook, and is teaching us how to have an Australian accent. J

In other news, things are coming down the wire for those of us who are being presented with forks in the road concerning decisions that need to be made regarding our futures. It’s safe to say that with only about a month and a half left, we are all thinking about what comes next. Please pr-y that G-d makes his leading abundantly clear to us, that we would have ears to hear His whispers, and that we would move forward in confidence of who is leading us. Additionally, that we wouldn’t let thoughts of the future deter us from what is happening right here, right now. In one respect, a month and a half feels like a blink of time, but in another, we know that we still have a lot to do, and a lot more to learn. May we always be tuned to listen to what G-d is teaching us through H-s Word, H-s church, and H-s creation.

Congratulations on making it to the bottom! Maybe next time I write, I will be a year older and a year wiser. J

Trash

First of all, I’m glad to report that I am feeling 100% healthy again. After about a week and a half of feeling under the weather, it’s nice to be back to normal. Please continue to pr-y for the health of my team. In the past 2 weeks, Jeff got bit by a dog, I visited the hospital, both Clay and Kirsten were feeling sick, and Jean injured her thumb pretty badly. Don’t misunderstand - this team is extremely tough, and very little keeps us down for long. We are optimistic and hopeful, but not naive enough to not recognize that someone isn’t happy about what we’re doing here, and is doing his best to distract or disable us. Continue to join us in pr-ying that we would be strengthened and covered by the right kind of armor.

This week was a bit different than usual, due to the death of a family member of an elder of the ch-rch. We had to change a few plans, including a trip to an island we’ve never been to, which will now happen next week. Instead, we had the opportunity to do a few things that were a bit out of the ordinary, but a fun change of pace. For example, yesterday the team and I walked around our neighborhood with black trash bags and collected only a fraction of the ice cream wrappers and empty cigarette cartons that line the streets of our neighborhood. The amount of street trash in our area, which itself is less than 10 years old, is just simply impressive. In about an hour’s time, we collected about 8 full-sized trash bags full of litter from about a block and a half. Cleaning it up has been something that I’ve wanted to do to contribute to the betterment of our neighborhood for a long time.

During our time in our neighborhood, Fe y Esperanza (Faith and Hope), we have been told (and noticed first-hand) just how much we are being watched. For our team, it is very important that we always remember what kinds of names we are carrying and representing on a daily basis (gringos, our churches, our families, and most importantly, Chr-st). This was made very evident while we were picking up trash, especially during interactions with some of our neighbors that we have not yet met. Several people stopped to thank us, and to tell us that we are setting a good example for the people here, especially the children. There was a group of women in particular who began by asking us if we were members of the “organization” (a group that works for the government on minor construction projects in the area). We obviously aren’t, but were able to inform them about our ch-rch services that are held right in the neighborhood every Sunday morning, in a familiar community center.

As we were sifting through discarded diapers and cast-off cans, I couldn’t help but think about J-s-s’ m-n-stry in meeting the people’s needs - both the physical as well as the sp-r-t--l. It’s through His concern for physical health by way of healings and miraculous feedings that J-s-s opened the ears and hearts of the people to His message. It’s through things like picking up trash on the side of the road that we are given opportunities for conversations with people who don’t know the love of J-s-s; conversations that we may not have had otherwise.

If none of those things, or simply for the fact that we were caring for creation were enough, we are told in Matthew that when we do things for the benefit of others, we are doing them unto Chr-st himself.

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the creation of the world. For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.’ Then these righteous ones will reply, ‘L-rd, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’”

Take a minute today to pick up a piece of trash on the side of the road, or to talk to someone who needs a friend. Do something for the benefit of someone else. You never know how simple things will end; make the effort to do something seemingly simple today.

The Hospital Story

Last week I spent a little while discovering the ins and outs of the Chilean heath care system, in an all-too-personal way.

Below is the full story, as notated to my parents in an e-mail. Suffice to say, I was quite sick, for quite a while, which resulted in my first ever hospital visit. In a foreign country. Where I don't have a big enough vocabulary to fully communicate with doctors. That's really all you need to know. If you want to know the gross details and promise not to judge... please continue.

-----

I talked to you on Saturday for Dad’s birthday. On Thursday, Kirsten had felt led to pr-y and fast for someone, and I felt like it was the right thing to join her and support her in that. Jean decided to as well, so the three of us fasted over lunch, and then our team’s time of fasting and -nt-rc-ss--n was over dinner, so the three of us were operating off of just our morning cereal all day. We’ve done this sort of thing in DTS before, so we weren’t too concerned. On Friday morning I had a small piece of bread for breakfast, and made spaghetti and a lettuce salad for lunch. After lunch, I began to feel… not good. Like every Friday, I taught my English class in the afternoon, and then right after, Jeff and Eduardo and I went into the city to do two more visits. We usually don’t get home until very late, and this week was no exception. I began to feel progressively worse, and even fell asleep on a couch during our last visit. Food didn’t sound good, and I was feeling pretty warm. When I got home, the girls weren’t there yet (they were on another visit), and I took my temperature with a disposable thermometer: 100.4.

The next morning was a little bit better, so I went over to Eduardo’s house to get a few things accomplished for the directors, and to make your birthday call. During our call, Juanita was making a really nice cultural meal with oysters and clams and everything, but I only wanted water. Then the explosions began. From that point on, everything that I put in my mouth (mostly just water), came right out the other end, in the form of complete liquid. I visited the bathroom a LOT on Saturday. In the evening, the girls were really sweet and sat on my bed to keep me company, and they got me a popsicle (that resulted in about 5 trips to the bathroom, but it tasted great). I was ridiculously hot all day. We didn’t have any more thermometers, but everyone who touched me was concerned. Sometimes I felt like I was hot, but mostly I felt cold (but hot to the touch). Eduardo and Juanita came over and pr-yed for me, and told me that they were going to come back at 11:30. If I wasn’t better by then, they were taking me to the hospital. I REALLY didn’t want that to happen. At all. I was imagining trying to explain the situation in broken Spanish, and them treating me for the wrong thing, or just being uncertain of Chilean hospitals and their protocol. It sounded horrible to me. Juanita came back a little while later with some medicine, and she said that I felt cooler. I had been lying on my bed with the window open, so I’m not sure if that was why or not. I was so excited to not have to go to the hospital, but what came next proved that I wasn’t moving in the right direction.

We all went to sleep, and Jeff was sleeping in our kitchen because we are borrowing a friend’s car, and it is safer with Jeff here (another story for another time - the gist: while we were on vacation, a friend kept an extra car from his business in our yard, and it was stolen). I got up in the middle of the night with horrible stomach pain. My head had been hurting a lot, too, probably because I couldn’t eat anything. The best I could describe it was that my head felt like a balloon, but with a brick helmet on. I was in the bathroom for a long long time, and I started to feel like I did when I used to pass out in the shower - remember that? My ears started ringing and crackling, and my vision started to get dark. I was so afraid that I wouldn’t be able to compose myself before I passed out. Thank goodness I was able to take care of business, but then I spent some extra time just lying on the bathroom floor. The cold tile felt good on my skin (gross, but true). Jeff asked if I was ok, and I said yeah, but I probably shouldn’t have. That was probably a lie. I didn’t want anyone to have to go to great lengths in the middle of the night. I stumbled back into bed, and Sunday was more of the same. Eduardo said, “No questions. After church you are going to the hospital.” Kirsten’s stomach was hurting by now, but with a little less intensity than mine, so the two of us stayed back from church. At about 2:30 I went with Jean and Jeff and Eduardo to “the hospital.”

G-d really had my back this time, because we had been borrowing our friend Fernando’s car since Friday night. That meant that I didn’t have to get myself to a bus, or make bus switches. SO much less complicated. Plus I was just feeling weak by then since I hadn’t really had much to eat in 3ish days.

The first place we went to was a little health clinic in Alerce. I didn’t like it as soon as I saw it. It looked a bit like a run-down school building, and all of the employees were grumpy. Nobody was wearing uniforms, and there were hand-made posters falling off the walls. Eduardo and Jeff and Jean were so great during this entire day. Eduardo was explaining my situation for me to the people and had my passport, Jeff handled all the money, and Jean kept me company and carried my purse. We waited for a little while and they called me back into a little room. A lady took my blood pressure, and put a thermometer under my armpit - the old glass mercury kind; just reached right down my shirt and everything. I have no idea what the result was (Update: I do, now. It was in the neighborhood of 101.5). Then it was back out into the waiting area to wait some more. I was then called into another room, and Eduardo went with me. This room looked a little bit like a blood drive - purple curtained cubicles with one little bed in each. They asked me a couple questions that Eduard made more simple for me. I was glad to have him there.

The lady then told me to lay down on the bed, and she whipped my shirt up and began poking around really forcefully. She asked me if it hurt, and I said, “Yes.” Of course it hurt! She was jabbing her fingers into my sensitive stomach. She then said, “Yep. Appendicitis.” Eduardo and I shared a skeptical glance. Then Eduardo told me he was going to leave, but after he did, I needed to take down my pants. I really had no idea what was going to happen, but I trust him, so I did, but not before asking, “Are you sure?!”

I buried my face in the wall, and my back side was just open to the world because the curtain wasn’t even closed to my purple cubicle. The waiting room couldn’t see, but still. I’m not exactly sure what she did, but I’m thinking she was taking my temperature. I don’t know (Update: She was. The result: 102). A very horrible experience that I don’t want to do again anytime soon.

That clinic place didn’t charge us anything, and they suggested I go to the real hospital to get my appendix removed. We said, “See ya later,” and immediately Eduardo said, we’re going somewhere else. I don’t trust them here. So we went to another place, this time in the city, that looked much more official and much more hospital-y. Very clean, lots of uniforms, and sliding doors. I didn’t have to wait for very long, and they took me back to a room that looked much more legit. They look my temperature (under the armpit again), and blood pressure again. This time the temperature was 101.7. This doctor was very nice and gentle, and he did the whole feel your abdomen thing, and said that he wasn’t worried because it felt very soft. He recommended that I stay for a while and they would give me an IV of fluids and wait until my temperature went down. I have been looking forward to whenever I would have to have my first IV for my entire life (NOT). I’m sure you can imagine how well I handled that. Eduardo was still with me, and was very kind and understanding. First they tried to put the needle in my right wrist, below my thumb. The nurse guy was having a hard time trying to find my veins, because he said they were so dry. He gave up on that part, and found another place on the top of my left hand instead. I had to lay there for close to an hour. They checked my blood pressure and temperature again, and this time it was normal.

We left with 2 prescriptions, and I was feeling a lot better. It almost felt like I had just woken up. Since it was a Sunday, it was a bit difficult to find a pharmacy that was open. Eduardo was a champ. Jeff drove throughout the city, and Eduardo ran in and out of 4 different pharmacies trying to find what I needed. At the last stop, he got exactly what I needed. And it was very inexpensive, too, since Eduardo is some sort of member at this pharmacy. 

I also have to “lay low” for 3 days, and I have a paper that says what I can and can’t eat for the next 6 days. I can’t have: milk, cream, cheese, butter, pig, lamb, duck, goose, fruits, vegetables, beans, condiments, legumes, fried foods, coffee, chocolate, or alcoholic drinks. I can have: toast, soda crackers, beef, brothy soups, fish, noodles, rice, eggs, jell-o, sugar in moderation, salt, tea, and cinnamon water. And some other things that I don’ t understand, and aren’t in my dictionary. Weird. For the next 6 days. We think that maybe the lettuce we ate made our stomachs feel gross, so we got rid of that, and are a bit leery of produce now. The official diagnosis was, enterovirosis: “WholeVirus.”

I’m still having some trouble keeping things down, well… anything down. But my whole self doesn’t hurt quite as much as before. I have more energy than yesterday, too. It was hard to sleep last night. I woke up at 3:45, and couldn’t sleep for the next 2 hours. I literally listened to my insides gurgle as if there were foam in there, just going up and down my digestive system.

The team just went to get groceries, so I’m all stocked up on jell-o, crackers, and a little bit of Gatorade. We’re going to watch “The Help” tonight, and just hang out, which sounds just perfect to me. They are being super helpful in trying to make me feel comfortable. In Jean’s words they’re being “sweetie pumpkins.”

Don’t worry too much. I feel ok; not very comfortable, but not going to die. In a few days it will all just be a funny story.