Back from Bolivia!

Hi all! Sorry it's been a while since I've written. We just got back last night from a 10 day trip to Bolivia...it was awesome!

Our trip had two parts, kind of. The first was definately like a vacation. We flew from Lima to a town about an hour from Lake Titicaca (one of the highest navigable lakes in the world). We took a bus from the airport to Puno, a town on the Peru side of the lake. Right off the bus in Puno, we decided to visit the Floating Islands.

You may have heard about these in your fifth grade social studies class or something. Native people have made large islands out of water reeds. These islands just float in the lake (well, they are staked down to the bottom so they don't just float everywhere, but you know what I mean)and the people actually live on them! It was crazy! When I say large, I do mean large. Ten to fifteen families live on each island. They have a telephone and post office (both in little reed booths), a school, medical clinic. The entire group of "islands" is called Uros (I'm not really sure how many islands there are in the group...quite a few). The people live on fish, mostly, and the other staples that they get in town when they take the fish there for trade. They navigate the river in large boats made of reeds. Some of the boats have been fashioned to have llama heads or look like other things. Really, I cannot do the islands justice with just an email desciption. Maybe you can check them out on a website or something. If you ever find yourself on the Peru side of Lake Titicaca, you must visit!

On Wednesday morning, we hopped on a bus to drive from Puno to Copacobana (a tourist town on the Bolivia side of Lake Titicaca). The view on the ride over was amazing! Lake on one side, countryside and mountains on the other. We saw a lot of people and farms on the way...I can't imagine living life as simply as these people do. Small fields, sheep and cows staked out along the road, women in bright colored skirts, hauling packages, children, you name it, all wrapped in brightly colored blankets that are tied onto their backs. We were all very curious how they wrap those things and get them to stay on (and how many times they drop their kids befor they get the hang of it...just kidding)

At one point on the ride, we actually had to cross the lake. We all got off the bus and boarded a small boat that took us across. Our bus floated across on a larger, barge-like boat. It was really funny to see the bus floating on the lake ahead of us.

We had a little problem crossing the border. Aaron (a fellow team member) and I accidentally only got 60 day stamps on our passports when we entered Peru in August. We were supposed to receive 90 day stamps. Since we were on day 67 of our trip, that was a problem. At first the immigration officer told us we would have to go back to Puno (about a 1.5 hour bus ride) to fill out a form of some sort, but after some talking (and a little money to help things along), they gave us some other form to fill out and let us go through...just had to keep the day exciting, you know.

In Copacobana, we shopped, ate fresh fish at the local market (I don't usually like fish, but this was amazing! The lucky fish was probably still alive the morning of the day that I ate it)...I have to say something about the local market. It's a large room where about 10 local ladies each run a little lunch counter. They all serve variations of the same things (trout), so when a person walks in (especially a bunch of "gringos") they all start to call out to you, trying to get you to eat at their counter. All their food is prepared in a little makeshift kitchen area they have in the middle of their little group of tables and benches...it is so neat!

Ok, back to my story. In Copa, we hiked, swam in Lake Titicaca for five minutes to win a bet (it was a little chilly, let me tell you...a lake at about 12000 feet in the spring time...brisk!), shopped, ate, read, caught up on sleep, watched the sunsets and looked at the stars (both of which we never see in Lima)...it was just a great time of rest and relaxation.

One morning, we took a boat out to the Isle del Sol (Island of the Sun). It's an island in the Lake Titicaca, beautiful for hiking around and such. Some people live on it, for the tourists. There is even a hotel and "resort" area...very fun.

On Friday, we hopped a bus to La Paz, Bolivia (the capital). Word Made Flesh (the organization I am here with), has a field in El Alto (a "suburb" of La Paz) that works with women in prostitution. La Paz is situated in the Andes Mountains. I think the elevation of the city is around 13000 feet or so. El Alto is another part of the city that sits on a plain in the mountains just above the city. You can get La Paz to El Alto in under 30 minutes by bus, but in that short time, the elevation changes almost 1500 feet, if I remember correctly. It was crazy to think that I spent the week at the same elevation as some of the mountains that people in Colorado will climb. Needless to say, I spent much of the week out of breath from the altitude...climbing a flight of stairs usually required a short rest break afterwords! The landscape in the area was amazing though...mountains (several 20,000 plus feet peaks) to be seen in every direction...it was awesome!

The Baker's (Andy and Andrea and their adorable son Eli) are the couple that runs that field...they are awesome! They arranged housing for us with local families. I stayed with Vicki and her three kids: Jordan (who is almost 9, his birthday is on Nov 1), Elba (6 years old), and Brianna (20 months old...I called her Brittney for 3 days and Vicki never said anything...I was a bit embarrassed about that one). Staying with Vicki in El Alto was fun and a great learning experience, but it was not easy. Vicki's family is very poor. Her husband works down in La Paz and only comes home on Sunday so he doesn't have to pay for bus fair every day. Andrea says that Vicki lives on about a dollar a day right now. The house had two rooms: the bedroom that I stayed in and the other room that had a pink curtain down the middle...living/dining room on one side, family bedroom on the other. The kitchen was a lean-to addition on the front of the house. The bathroom was a cement "room" in the corner of the front yard (aka, dirt and rock area inside the steel gate).

I've always thought of myself as a person who would be good at living very simply, but this did take some adjustment. The only running water was the shower in the bathroom (which had great pressure, but I could never figure out how to get the warm water switch to work, so I took refreshingly cold showers all week), and the water hydrant just outside the bathroom...no running water actually inside the house. I definately cut down on drinking things before bedtime because running outside in the cold in the middle of the night to visit the bathroom was not high on my list of things to do while in Bolivia.

In spite of all the beautiful things in nature around me, El Alto was a very dreary, hard place for me to be. Almost all the houses were just dirt-colored brick because painting a house takes money that could be spent on other things. Many of the street are dirt (which is so strange to me, considering that El Alto is bigger than Omaha by quite a bit). There are big piles of rock, trash, random dogs wondering the streets...it's just a very poor place.

Many of the people there look older than they actually are, I think. For example, Vicki is only 25, but I never would've guessed that. I think the combination of the very strong sun (which was nice, compared to the overcast skies we have in Lima all the time, but also meant that sunblock was an absolute must!), and hard, physical labor that lots of people have to do, makes them age quickly. I can't imagine living like that. Once again, makes me feel very blessed to have grown up and currently live where I do. Things are so easy and convenient back home...I was definately missing that this week!

While in El Alto, we did several things. We spent two days at the center that the Bakers run for women who are in prostitution in El Alto. One day we walked down several blocks of a street near the center. Andy said that we passed at least 10 brothels on our little walk, although you never would've known it. Prostitution is legal in Bolivia, but that still doesn't make the conditions that these women work in any better.

It's hard to explain the ministry that the Bakers have to the women. In a nutshell, they build friendships with the women, so the women know that they are valued and loved by people, and more importantly, by God. Most of the women don't want to be in prostitution, but making a living is very difficult in Bolivia (I believe that Andy said it was the poorest country in South America), so they often have very few options in order to make money to support a family. Once again, this whole experience is teaching me that one of the biggest things God calls us to do is to love people right where they are at because through the relationships that genuinely caring for people will build, God will be able to work. Again, it's hard to explain all the thoughts that are running through my head...I guess I'll have to save that for conversations when I return.

On Tuesday, we took about 10 of the women to a ropes course outside the city for a day of fun, teambuilding activities. That was a hoot!

We also had an "observation day" where we walked around La Paz and El Alto, just taking in life there, some free times to be with our families, community night where we cooked a meal and hung out with the Bakers and some other Americans in El Alto...overall it was a great, eye-opening, learning experience, that (just like the rest of this trip) has left me with more unanswerd questions...but I'm getting use to all that now.

The trip back was a crazy one. We caught a bus in El Alto (after running around the huge outdoor market for about 20 minutes, looking for the bus area), to Copacobana...then another bus to Puno, where we learned that there wouldn't be any flights to Lima for two days after the next flight which left in 1.5 hours...problem was, we were at least 45 minutes away! We found two taxis, told them to get us to the airport as fast as they could...they did, we made the flight, and found ourselves back in Lima at 8pm last night...whew! What a day!

So, that's what I've been up to for the last two weeks. Today we are taking a rest day (I even cheated and took some laundry to the laundramat instead of handwashing this morning), having lunch as a team to discuss our trip, and then who knows. We have about six weeks left, and I know that time will fly by, so before you know it, I'll be seeing you all stateside again. Thanks, as always, for your messages, thoughts, and prayers. I'm loving it here, but miss home a lot, so I love hearing from you! Until next time...

Random thoughts for the week

Well, here it is, Saturday morning again. I just got out of a very warm shower, the house is quiet, my roommates are still sleeping...perfect time to update you all on how things are going here. Problem is, I don't have any major thoughts this morning. Instead, there are just a bunch of little things swimming around my head, so forgive me if this entry skips around a bit.

First, I can give you the highlights of the week. Sunday I ran to the beach after church. That was two days in a row that I got to see the ocean...woohoo! I miss Nebraska a lot, but I will have to admit that living on the ocean is a perk. There's just something so amazing about looking out on the endless water, listening to the waves come in...reminds me of how awesome and big God is, how really little I am in the grand scheme of things, and yet how amazing it is that God knows me personally. Looking at the ocean really brings to life the Bible verses that talk about how creation proclaims the name of God...sorry I don't know the exact verse...scripture memorization has never been one of my strong points.

Monday was a strange, but good, day at Casa Job...only one kid showed up! We found out later that it was just a bunch of coincidences that kept youth from coming. Some were tired and/or sick, so they were sleeping. Others had errands they had to run. It was just the weirdest thing! So, we packed up the sandwiches and Quacker (that runny oatmeal-like stuff that I'm beginning to love, which, we learned this week, isn't made from Quacker Oats at all, but bread that has been soaked in water, then blended and mixed with milk and stuff. Who would've known?) and headed out to Sandia Street. I think I may have told you about Sandia Street before. It's a narrow, crowded street in a poorer part of town. It is lined with Menus (small resteraunts), random businesses and shops, several buildings where people can rent rooms, and a bus station. As we walk down, we gather the youth up. Then we sit on the sidewalk right outside the bus station (so we are constantly haveing to watch for huge buses pulling out) hang out with the kids while they eat breakfast. It's always eye-opening for me to come out to Sandia Street because that is where the youth are. This is where they live, hang out, spend part of their lives. I always leave there feeling very thankful (and a little guilty) for how well I live back home.

That brings me to a little "bunny trail" in this letter, I guess. For the last two weeks, our book study has been on the book "Rich Christians in the Age of Hunger". What an eye-opening book! Not necessarily fun to read, but very interesting. I recommend it if you want to understand how much of the world lives and God's thoughts on the rich and poor. Probably every person reading this journal entry is rich, at least compared to the rest of the world. In the past, whenever I read information like that, I just left feeling guilty for what I have (like I already said, I guess...little repeat here). Now, I feel excited about what I can do to help balance things out a bit. How I can change how I live and how I can raise awareness for the poor so other Christians will be encouraged to do the same. The thing is, it's not just cutting back on a few things so we all have a little more money to give away to charities...that's great, but the real issue is really having a change of heart, and that has to start with me. I can't look any farther than myself on this issue. Well, I guess that's a pretty random thought there...just a little glimpse into some of the things I've been thinking about lately.

Ok, so back to my story about weird Monday. After taking breakfast to the kids, we headed back to Casa Job. For breakfast (at 11:30am) we had what was going to be the Entrada (appetizer, in a way) for lunch. It was one of my favorite things here so far: Papa Rellina. They were this ball of mashed potatoes with meat and veggie filling that was then deep fried...so tasty! After breakfast we deep cleaned a lot of Casa Job. Monica and I (more Monica, don't want to steal her thunder) tackled the first floor bathroom. It was gross, let me tell you, and although it didn't look sparkling when we got done, there was vast improvements. Definately incentive to clean my bathroom at home more regularly. I love days like that, at least occasionaly, where I can really see the fruit of my labors.

Tuesday night was my night to go out to the streets. There weren't a lot of kids there at first, but a large group slowly amassed. During worship, one of the girls stood with her arm around me almost the entire time we sang. I think we had met once before...maybe. It just made me think why she felt so comfortable to do that: is she just that kind of person, was she a little high, does she really need love and attention that much that she'll cling on to a stranger for 20 minutes? Probably a bit of all those things, I would guess. Another reminder of just how many stories there are out there.

I don't think I've ever told you about the older man who come to get milk and sandwiches whenever we are on the streets. I don't know his name (althought I am determined to find out). He's a quiet guy, alsways comes with his big flat basket of snacks that he sells on the street. He brings a little stool with him that he sets down against the wall of the building. He will either sit on that stool or stand right beside it, quietly waiting for us to have the worship and then hand out food. He claps and sings along with the songs, gets his food, and then leaves. He always has a cap and scarf on, and has a larger nose. For some reason, I was thinking about him this week. Who is he? Does he have a home? Does he have a family? How long has he been selling his little snacks? What's his story? Again, one of these times that I wish I knew the language better. There are thousands of people on the streets of Lima, selling their snacks, trying to make a living at that. I pass by many every day, rarly making a purchase. I'm not writing this to put you or myself on a guilt trip of any sort. Rather, it's just a reminder to me of how much I really want to make people the most important thing in my life...just another random thought, I suppose.

Wednesday was a great day at Casa Job. Lots of kids, beautiful weather. The highlight for me was the presence of one guy I'll just call R. R is an interesting guy. I don't know much about his story, other than he has had a hard life. He is often one of the dirtiest youth at the center. The last time we saw him, he was looking pretty tough. He had a big ball of black trash bags over his feet. He hadn't showered in quite some time. Drugs, the harshness of life, and probably a bunch of other things, have caused him to be a little crazy at times. He says he knows Chinese and will speak it sometimes. He often is quiet, not talking much, and sleeping on the floor quite a bit. Wednesday, though, he looked so different! He showered, had on cleaner clothes (although still all black...his "Michael Jackson look" is what one of the staff calls it). He was really talkative, asking Monica and I questions about our homes, families, etc. For the workshop time in the afternoon, he wrote a long letter as part of the project they worked on. R. has a sweet heart, I can just tell. Just wanted to give you all a face to put with the imperonal stories I tell about life here. That's the hard thing about writing these journal entries. There are so many things I'd like to tell you all about, but words on a computer screen just don't do the stories and people justice. I wish I could bring you all own to meet the people here and experience the things I am experiencing.

Thursday was a special girls day at the Casa Job. About 10 girls came. The female members of our Servant Team were responsible for babysitting, which is always highly entertaining. The young women worked on baby books for their kids that they had started at the last girls day in May (everyone present had a baby except for one girl who is due with her first in two weeks and one who doesn't have any), then ate lunch, had a worship and devotional time, then made a potato snack they could sell for income. Among other things, Word Made Flesh staff tries to encourage the women in different ways to make money besides prostitution, which some (but not all) of them have turned to. My feelings about that would be an entire long journal entry in itself, but, suffice to say, I am beginning to see how tough decisions need to be made when it comes down to the most reliable way to feed your family.

It was so neat to see the girls all together, without the guys around. They seem to come alive in such a different way, like they are more free to be themselves, not have to be so guarded. It helps me to really get to know them as individuals, not just this group of people that I am here to serve. That's a lesson that I am learning each day...one of the most important things I can do for someone is to know them as a friend, to do whatever I can to restore their dignity in life, to feel like real person, not just this poor individual that their society looks down upon or that we feel we need to come and "save". Hope that makes at least a little sense.

Watching their kids was a blast. I, by the grace of God, was in charge of a little guy named Angel. He was almost 2 years old, I think, and just so sweet (except that he didn't wanted to eat very much of the lunch). We spent quite a bit of time playing on the rooftop patio with two other kids in a small makeshift sandbox. Kids, wherever they are, love to play in (and sometimes eat) dirt.

Whew...I just looked at my watch and realized that I have been typing for almost an hour. I better finish this out before I put the few brave people who are still reading this insanely long journal entry to sleep. I also need to see about making breakfast. Jill, Monica, and I decided that today feels like a pancake day. Carmen's kitchen is always an adventure when it comes to cooking, so hopefully all goes well. Thanks, again, for all your thoughts, prayers, emails, and letters. Home is always close to my thoughts! Love and miss you bunches!

Hitting the Halfway Mark

Good morning everyone! Well, it's 7:15am on Sunday morning, and this is the second time I am starting this journal entry. I just wrote for about 15 minutes, decided to save what I had, and lost it. God likes to put little lessons about patience and controling my temper in wherever he can get them...gotta love God for that! So, here we go with "Take 2" of the weekly journal entry.

I am up early because I was planning on doing laundry this morning before church. Being clever I thought I would put it in to soak, do my blog, then wash it. Well, God was at it with His patience lessons there, too, because I can't get the stove to light for some reason, so I can't heat up any water, and I just hate doing whites without warm water. So, I'll have to do it sometime this afternoon because (somethings don't change, no matter where I'm at) I have managed to run out of certain vital parts of my wardrobe, so laundry, at least a little bit, must get done at some point today.

So, on to news of the week. There were several sad things that happened this week. Early in the week, I found out that one of the youth that came to the drop in center (I'll call him AM) was arrested and taken to prison for stealing. AM is one of my favorite kids. He loves to dance. He likes to play cards. He speaks slowly when he's talking to us so we have a chance to understand what he's saying. He will make a bracelet for you, if you ask. At the soccer tournament last week, he introduced us to his brother who lives at the home the tournament was hosted at. His brother is deaf, and I could see that AM was the great big brother who looked out for his younger sibling. He loves his brothers and was excited for us to meet him. AM has a great personality and always brings a smile to my face when I see him.

Selfishly, I am very sad by the fact that AM probably won't be around in the remaining two months we are here. I won't get to take his picture, play cards with him, see him having fun at the weekend retreat we are planning on having. It's hard for me to know how to feel when the youth get taken in. On one hand, yes, AM is a thief and justice has been served. I will be th first to admit that he "deserves" to be arrested for what he does. On the other hand, though, AM is so much more than just a thief. He's someone that, I believe, if given the chances that I've been given, would "make a lot for himself" in life. What will happen to all the youth like AM, who feel like the street is where their home is, where their family is? What hope is there for them? These are the questions I find myself asking every day.

Another low point of the week was my continual struggle with learning Spanish. After two months, I feel like I still speak like a bumbling idiot while others on my team are picking things up very quickly. That's been a good lesson for me as well because it has reminded me that there is still a lot of "junk" in my heart that I need to have God take care of. I don't want to be jealous and envious of my teammates who can speak better than I can. I don't want to feel threatened by the fact that I can't speak the language as well...threatened in the sense that I worry that people won't think I'm just as valuable as someone who can speak Spanish (which no one has ever done anything to make me think that...just a stupid insecure thought I have). This time is teaching me a lot about tthe insecurties I have and how much I need to believe ( I mean really believe, in my heart, not just saying things that I know in my head are true) in the things that God has said about me. Thankfully, the bad attitude about my Spanish this week has passed, and I have a new resolve to just keep learning and see where that takes me. I's still love your prayers for that, though.

So, on to the activities of the week. It was a pretty average week in Lima. Friday was a holiday, so we didn't have Casa Job. Instead, Jennifer (our team leader) and the team took 10 of the kids from Generacion (the home for younger kids...like 8-15ish) to the beach to pick up seashells for some things they want to make. I love the ocean, so I knew the day was going to be good. The beach here in Lima isn't like other beaches I've been to. It's not exceptionally pretty. It can be rather dangerous at times. The weather on the day we went way chilly and overcast, so it wasn't a day for swimming or sunning ourselves, but it was great none the less. We navigated over slick, moss covered rocks, with the water lapping just a few yards from us, looking for shells. By the time we were done, we had a large bag full of tiney treasures. It was great to see the exciement on the kids' faces as they looked, especially when they found a special find. It was fun to see their creativity as they played music by rubbing two ribbed shells together in a beat/rhythm while they sand. It was neat to see a 13 year old boy take my hand and help me over the rocks in a very grown-up, gentleman-like manner. It was wonderful to see them just being kids, doing things that kids their age should be doing: begging for snacks when the ice cream man passed, not listening when we told them to get out of the pool they were wading in, "accidentally" gettingn each other wet.

Sometimes I focus too much on the sadness of their situation instead of just finding joy with them right where they are at. Another reminder that the most important thing I can do for the kids here, and for everyone I meet, whether that be in Lima or Omaha, is love them.

On Wednesday (yes, I'm traveling backwards here...sorry for the randomness of this email...I'm not thinking in very organized thoughts this morning...hope you can forgive me for that) our servant team taught our first "charla" at Casa Job. "Charla" means "chat". It's the word they use on the daily schedule for any class, discussion, etc, that is planned for the day. We were in charge of coming up with some games and then a short discussion abou the games afterwards. So, games with a point...hmm...We decided on Simon SAys and the Shape Game. You all know Simon Says, but let me just say that it's a rather difficult game to play with a translator involved. As for the Shape Game...in that game, you have a partner. Both of you have an identical set of shapes made from cardboard. There is a divider between you. One person makes a picture from the shapes and then has to tell the other person how to make that same picture. It's all about communication, and it was hilarious! There was much yelling, trying to peek over the divider, arguing over who actually won...we had such a good time! It was another one of those times that I just want to save up in my memory and replay when I'm having a hard day here, or when I retrun to the States and am missing Lima.

Well, I was able to get my laundry in, so I have to go wash now if I'm going to get done before church. Sorry to cut this short, but wanted to at least tell you a little about what's going on here. Thanks for all the prayers, messages, and other encouraging things. I think about you all often and can't wait to share more stories, thoughts, etc, again soon. Until next time...

Celebrating Life!

Each week, my team gathers to discuss a book we, as a team, are reading. This week we read the book "From Brokeness to Community". It's a very short book (only 54 pages) that I highly recommend if you get the chance. It talks about what it really means to live in community, the good, the bad, and the ugly, and why, ultimately, living in community is all worth it. There is so much to say, but one part of the book talks about how important it is to celebrate life. As many of you know, I love a great celebration, and this week was one in which I was privileged to be able to really celebrate life with the people I am getting to know here in Peru.

On Monday, we hosted a first birthday party for Melanie and Vasty (the one year old daughters of two of the girls that Word Made Flesh works with here in Lima). First birthdays are a very big deal here in Peru, so we wanted to make sure that Melanie and Vasy (and, more importantly, probably, their moms) had the privelege of having that celebration. The Casa Job was decked out in pink and white, let me tell you: balloons, streamers, banners (Hello Kitty and Barbie themes) a pinata, and lots of people...it was so much fun!

I have to tell you a little bit about the snacks. Each party I've been to has had the same snacks. There are the animals crackers with a puff of what looks like frosting but is actually something like hard cotten candy...I'm actually quite fond of those. There are large colored marshmallows, cheese puffs that seem like the machine that actually adds the cheese flavor must have skipped over them in the factory, things that look a little like brown rice krispy bars but taste like dry rice cakes (at best), little ice cream cones with a colored marshmallow for the "ice cream" on top, little fried pillow-like chips that have a sweet/syrupy taste to them (they look like they should be on a chinese buffet table somewhere). The common theme here is snacks that look better than they taste. It just cracks me up for some reason!

Today the celebration revolved around the big soccer tournament. Casa Job teamed up with another organization in Lima that works with street kids to organize a soccer tournament. There were six teams from various organizations around the city. The kids had been talking about the game for several weeks, so everyone was wound up at Casa Job today! The boys had their jerseys on (green with white trim and "Casa Job" on the back and new black shorts). They helped us (the servant team) makes signs. We took lots of pictures. We could evern tell they were excited at lunch because hardly anyone actually cleared their plate, which is a rare occurance.

Although we lost both games (but not for lack of effort or crowd spirit, let me tell you) it was still an awesome day. I got to see a side of some of the boys that doesn't come out very often...the side that seems like they are just regular teenagers, that they can laugh and joke, that they don't have other things to worry about. There was one boy, in particular, who I often have a hard time with at Casa Job. Not because he does anything bad or wrong, but because he is usually pretty closed up, almost aloof. Today we actually talked a bit. He was laughing, smiling, acting just like an 18 year old guy should. This is all hard (actually about impossible) to explain in writing from thousands of miles away, but I hope you can get a taste of just how great the day was.

I think, partly, I loved the day so much because it was such a celebration of life. I didn't get caught up in feeling sorry for them, wishing I could fix their lives, wondering what more I should be doing either here or when I get back home. Instead, I just enjoyed the day with them. I was loving life right alongside them. That's an important lesson that I have been learning here. More than needing food, house, clothes, people need to know that they are loved. They need to know that someone will care about them, about who they really are, not just how they could "fix their lives". Not that I still don't want to find the key that would unlock the door to provision and prosperity for them, but I'm learning how that's not the most important thing to do for them.

Another fun, random part of the day was the way that we, as a servant team, pulled together to show our team spirit. Last night we purchased and painted t-shirts. Our shirts spelled out "Vive Casa Job" (this means something like "long live Casa Job"...kind of). One the back we each had a different message, and a lot of white space for the kids to sign the shirts. They had a really great time with that. During the game we yelled chants and sand song, led by Aaron (a fellow team member and the unofficial number one fan). By the end of the afternoon, other teams had brought out a drum and Aaron was in a friendly yelling competition with them...it was hilarious.

The most vivid images of the day, though, were after the games. Brian (the director of Word Made Flesh in Lima) had given each of the kids money for bus or cab fare. I about cried from laughter watching those eight kids try to fit themselves, a baby stroller and these orange crates that one kid picked up from a trash can (we're all really curious as to his plans for the orange crates...if I find out, I'll be sure to let you know) into a station wagon taxi. It took two different taxi and several seating arrangements (I believe what they finally ended up with was one kid, a stroller, orange crates and the taxi's spare tire in the back, five kids in the middle seat, and two kids and a baby in the front passenger seat) but they finally made it work...it truly was a miracle of God that they all fit. Definatley one of those times that I wish I had a video camera so you could all share in my laughter.

A more sober moment occured just before that, though. At first we were not walking the same direction as they were to get the taxi. Instead, we were talking to one of the kids while the other seven starated to walk away. As they walked away from us, I thought they looked like a group of high school kids that you might see walking down the street in the town you live in. The kind of group that looks like they are walking to one of their houses where someone's mom will give them snacks and they'll spend the evening in the basement playing video games or watching TV. Instead, though, these kids were walking to...nothing. There were walking no where. Not that they don't have a specific destination in mind. Some of them are able to rent small rooms. Others have specific areas and streets that they would call "home". But, really, what are they walking to? I couldn't help but feel so sad and angry that they have had their childhood stolen away like this. It shouldn't have to be like this for them. It makes me think, "What am I going to do about this?" About them, the kids like them in Omaha, the kids like them all around the world. Deep thoughts for the day, that's for sure.

So, that's my news for the week. Beyond that, everything is going as normal. I am getting over a nasty cold that I've had for over a week. I have been the least sick, though, of the five of us on our team, so I am in no way complaining. Our team took a weekend retreat last week at a little hotel about 30 minutes outside of Lima. We soaked up the sun, read, played games, ate good food, enjoyed green space and relative peach and quiet....it was awesome! Spanish lessons are going well but the language (or lack of it) continues to be one of my biggest frustrations here. The fleas are officially back. I can, at this time, count about 15 bites on me, and Jill (one of my teammates and roommates) could probably say the same...it seems so funny to say "I have fleas!", but I do...one of the crazy things about being here, I guess. Nothing that another flea bomb and some handwashing won't fix. We are almost to the halfway point here, which is crazy for me to think. I'll be back in Omaha before I know it! Thanks, as always, for your thoughts and prayers. Hope you enjoy sharing my trip with me. Can't wait to "talk" with you all again soon!