Happy Thanks-living!

It’s Thanksgiving Day. Really? Doesn’t feel like it, doesn’t look like it, doesn’t smell like it. But that’s what the calendar indicates. So, we’ll go with that. But so far today, there just isn’t much that has the “flavor” of Thanksgiving Day about it. This is one of only several times in 35 years that I’ve not cooked a turkey on this day. It’s a lot of work fixing Thanksgiving dinner as many of you women well know…but I have to confess, I sure miss it this year. Preparing the dinner with all the “fixin’s” for my family was something I honestly enjoyed doing…partially because I love to cook and mostly because I love my family.

Several of you have asked if they celebrate Thanksgiving here. No. The Nicaraguans don’t care a fig whether the Pilgrims survived their first winter in the New Land or not. Truthfully, I often wonder if our nation is a “thankful” nation anymore. And, if the steady and purposeful elimination of the mention of God from all aspects of our “public” lives continues, I question whether we, as a nation, will be able to continue to celebrate Thanksgiving…after all, to Whom could we give thanks? Norman Rockwell’s picture of a family celebrating Thanksgiving may someday be more nostalgic than we might imagine.

Back to here. Thanksgiving in Nicaragua. The grocery stores have jumped on the American bandwagon and are carrying frozen turkeys for those diehard or homesick Americanos who refuse to celebrate any other way. We were so excited to see that and had initially thought we would go ahead and get a small one and fix as traditional a dinner as we could any. Then one of us had the forbearance of mind to check the price of the tempting Tom…YOWZA!!!! They ranged in price from $60-$90, depending on size and brand. Big Butterballs cost big bucks! It didn’t take long to make the decision to leave the frozen fowls for others who might have a stronger sense of tradition (and deeper pockets) than do we.

So did that mean we would have no turkey??? Heaven forbid!!! We found a package of turkey lunchmeat which suddenly gained great appeal and so today, we dined on exquisitely thinly sliced processed turkey breast, positioned beautifully between two pieces of bread from the local bakery and lightly glazed with some imported mayo. This delightful entrée was accompanied with a salty side dish of chips…Pringles, I might add. Topped off with a glass of Diet Pepsi and we were set!

Now, before you feel too sorry for us, I have to tell you that we’ve been invited over to some friends’ house for dinner tonight along with some other missionaries. And, it’s my understanding they will have both turkey and ham (another pretty pricey import here…a small Farmland spiral sliced ham is between $30 and $50, again depending on size). I heard a team brought down some canned pumpkin and sweet potatoes so the dinner is supposed to be very traditional. The anticipation of what’s to come made my turkey lunchmeat sandwich much easier to swallow…so to speak.

And, last Sunday night, our church had a Thanksgiving potluck dinner with the church buying the turkeys. It's an international church but one might think it's comprised of only Baptists with all the eating that was going on that night! So, it's not like we have been or will be totally fowl-free this holiday.

It’s true that today I miss the smells of preparing Thanksgiving dinner but more than that, I miss my family. I miss the constant chatter of the kids, the question of the day, “How much longer ‘til we eat?”, the moans and groans that come from those with too-full tummies. I miss giving and getting hugs, the kids stretched out on the floor in front of the fireplace, the cut-throat games of Krazy Bee Rummy, the snuggling on the couch and yes, it’s true, tonight, I will miss that satisfying sense of exhaustion that often accompanies an act of effort laced with love.

I miss the smell of sage but I miss more the smell of a freshly-scrubbed Jeremiah. I miss the glisten of the glaze on the turkey, but I miss more the brightness of Maddie’s smile. I miss the comfort of hot bread ready to be buttered, but I miss more the warmth of Sam’s arms wrapped around “Grams”. I miss the sound of the oven timer going off repeatedly as each dish finishes its time there, but I miss more the sound of Benjamin’s contagious laughter. I miss my old crowded kitchen…not because it was necessarily small but because it was filled counter to counter with loved ones - with our daughters, our son-in-law and our precious grandchildren. Turkey doesn’t make Thanksgiving special, family does.

All this “missing” could make for a really down day. But God won’t let me stew in my “missing” like a turkey does in its own juices. He’s been faithful to remind me this week of so many of my blessings. And maybe that the emphasis on one special day of giving thanks isn’t necessarily what He wants. He had put before us this week, several opportunities to give…not just out of our pockets, but out of our day and out of our selves, to folks here who consider a whole chicken a feast. Never mind the fact they’ve never even tasted turkey. We have been able to provide food to a family and medicine to another. We have been able to give counsel to a troubled marriage. To bring words of encouragement to one who was discouraged. We have a young girl, who has come off the streets of prostitution, and her 1 year old baby, whom we are going to be helping with food and gifts for Christmas.

It is with great sincerity when I say that God is revealing to me, reminding me and teaching me I have so much to be thankful for and whether I have turkey today or not is not even on the radar screen. I think God would much rather I stay in a state of Thanks-living rather than celebrate one day of Thanksgiving. I pray you all have a blessed day with your family, your friends and our God.

A day with the Creator...

What do you do when you’re “restricted” to your house? Actually, I don’t think I’ve had that imposed on me since I was a teenager…and all I could do then was pout and complain about how unfair life was. I’ve tried that this morning but it’s not worked any better now than it did then.
I guess “restricted” is too extreme of a word for this situation. We opted to stay home this morning from going to teach Miguel, due to the continuing problems in the streets. He’s sad but he understands. He really looks forward to our time together. He’s so curious about Americans and our way of life – just as we are his. He’s also very curious as to why we do some of the things we do…or don’t do. We continue to disciple Miguel according to God’s Word. He has much to learn about grace…but don’t we all?

Staying home has turned out to be a wise decision. There are already impromptu demonstra-tions happening all over the city. The news just showed a large crowd gathering at the inter-section we would have gone through. The demonstrators, (not sure if it was the Opposition or the Sandinistas) had set fire to a truck…always a good way to gather a crowd…and to get on television.

For the most part, the demonstrations seem to be pretty peaceful today but there’s to be a huge demonstration planned for this afternoon and they are anticipating there to be violence then. The businesses at that location are all boarding up their windows and the roads are already starting to be blocked off. The Sandinistas are burning tires in the street, tearing down the Opposition’s banners and traffic is a nightmare. Yep, staying home was a good idea…the trash men must have the same idea as they didn’t come by this morning.

So, what can we do today? We will study, that’s a given. And, I’m on my second load of clothes but since water pressure is so low, it’s now almost a 2 hour process to get a load washed. The house is easy to keep clean…especially with Margarita here this morning! The floors just shine…she wields a mean mop! So, no need to do much housework – I’m able to keep up with it each day. The benefit of living in a small space without a lot of extra stuff… We’re trying not to stay glued to the news but it is difficult. This city is where we now live and these are the people to whom we want to minister. We don’t want to see them as Sandinistas or Opposition party members…it’s too easy to get caught up in the politics. We’re not here to be political pundits. We’re here to show and share the love of Jesus Christ…to both the Sandinistas and the Opposition parties.

With it being a “slow” day, it’s amazing what we can find to entertain us. This morning, I took a couple of pictures of the active volcano, Mombotombo and its smaller sidekick, Mombotombito, which sits towards the northwest of us. I wish my camera could capture the beauty of this area, but it’s just not able to do so. The rising sun was hitting the side of Mombotombo and the sky provided the perfect backdrop to clearly see the steady poofing of black smoke coming from the peak. It was beautiful.

To the northeast, the mountains in the distance were veiled with a thin haze. The lake was still and Managua appeared peaceful. So did Ciudad Sandino. It was too early for the booms to have begun and the only noise that stood out was the crunching and rustling of our four-legged neighbors. They belong to Eddy, a neighborhood man who keeps an eye out on the backside of the houses on this stretch of street. When we first looked at the house, there were three little pigs…he’s down to two.

This yellow-bellied bird is a regular on our clothesline each morning. He sits proudly like a king on his throne and turns his head first one way and then another, surveying his kingdom and looking for breakfast. When I got ready to take his picture, he flew to another part of the yard. This is the best picture I could get of him today. Unlike the demonstrators on the other side of the city, he’s a bit camera shy.

And finally, our find of the day…this giant, black grasshopper!!! He has been injured, with a portion of his back end looking as though it has been gnawed on, (perhaps he found part of his fanny in the beak of the yellow bird) and his right rear leg (is that what it’s called???) bent inwards at an awkward angle when he walks, but even so, he’s still a mighty fine and strappin’ lookin’ bug! My daughter, Sadie, will be happy to know that after his photo shoot, we left him alone, to live and terrorize other gringas who might happen upon him. Jim actually gets the credit for the photos on this one. I asked him to put his finger next to the grasshopper so you would have an idea how large he was. My big, brave photographer would only put his finger a few inches away from the grasshopper and not right next to it so you still can't get a fair perspective of just what a whopper this lil' black beauty is…but then, I have to add he got a lot closer to it than I was willing to do!

I always want to glorify God with whatever I write. I think I’ve been pretty clear about the “wars and rumors of wars” that we’re experiencing here. God is still God. He is our Hiding Place. His banner cannot be torn down nor can he be voted out of being God. The nations may rage but God reigns. Mombotombo cannot be contained by man. No artist could begin to paint the beauty our Creator showed me this morning. And there was a lesson in both the bird and the grasshopper…neither were concerned with riots or demonstrations. They were just busy being who they were created to be. That’s what we need to do today. We were created to be His children and as such, we can rest safely in the presence of our Father, knowing He is in control of all things, from booms to bugs.

All's quiet on the western front...

Sometimes the absence of a noise is as disturbing as the noise is itself. That’s somewhat how I’m feeling at the moment…the booms have stopped. Managua is always a noisy city but right now, the noises are more than the sound of blaring car horns, buses belching exhaust and motorcycles ring-a-ding-dinging as they weave their way through the ever-present traffic. The booms we’ve been hearing for the past week have been fireworks, mortars or a combination of the two. This is a city in turmoil which is escalating to upheaval unless the two opposing political parties can achieve some kind of agreement for a peaceful coexistence.

Barrios in the some of the poorest parts of the city are becoming rock-throwing battlegrounds. Machete wielding vigilantes threaten their enemies…many of whom are neighbors, co-workers, even family members. Roads have been blocked and traffic brought to a standstill. Businesses have closed due to the riots. Blood has been spilled with countless injuries and several deaths. This is a passionate country comprised of passionate people. And this past week, their passion has boiled over.

Last week’s mayoral election results have been the igniter for this potential implosion. There have been numerous allegations and accusations of voter fraud. There were voters who say they were threatened, voters who were tagged as voting earlier in the day when they claim they had not yet cast their ballots, figures that were supposedly altered, voting locations that closed early, large numbers of ballots that were supposedly found in the trash, and so on. The typical kind of thing when the losing party doesn’t accept defeat at the ballot box…the problem is, the opposition party says they have proof of all of the above and they’re fighting back…through the courts, through the media, through the international community and now, through the city streets. This stuff makes Florida’s hanging chads seem like a sandbox dispute.

Now I see this in several ways. I know how the news outlets love to play this stuff up. After all, that’s what sells papers and glues people to their favorite news channels. And we have been able to travel all throughout the city all week long without so much as one incident. But we have tried to be smart in our travels. We avoid the areas that are known trouble spots. We don’t go out after dark and we keep our doors and gates locked at all times. Not much different than traveling or living in any major city in the U.S.

The other side of that is this stuff is real. This country has a history of being pillaged by its own leaders. There is a faction that says enough is enough. It is crying out for the people to stand up for themselves and to quit being oppressed. Funny thing is, that’s the same battle cry of the current government. The ruling authorities have taken good care of their supporters and have a publicity (or propaganda, depending on how you view it) department that can hold its own if compared to any other heads of state press corps. There seems to be a lot of inciting going on. And meanwhile, it’s the same story it’s always been in politics like these…the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. And just like a well-thought out chess game, the pawns are being played to perfection and are sacrificed as necessary.

Thankfully, we live on the far west side of the city and up until today, all the action has been taking place in the central part of the city. Today, the road blocks made it here to the South Highway, just ½ block from where we used to live. Seems the opposition party had a meeting planned with some officials so they could show proof of election fraud. Apparently, the ruling party blocked the highway with semi trucks so that traffic could not pass either way. Another one of the many roadblocks throughout the city was held at the base of our “mountain”…right in front of a police station. Since there weren’t any moving violations, I’m assuming the police didn’t get involved. That was dripping with sarcasm, in case you missed it. I’m afraid my opinion of the folks in blue isn’t very high. Well, now I have to retract that statement…Jim said the news just showed one of the riot police throwing a rock at one of the incidents and then running. I laughed. He then said it wasn’t a rock, but a tear gas canister. Maybe so, but the rock story seems more plausible.

The odd thing about all this is we didn’t know anything about any of today’s events until we got several phone calls and Jim turned on the news. And we just live a couple of blocks back from the South Highway! We’ve been cautioned to stay in tonight and perhaps even tomorrow. As a result, we may have to cancel our time with Miguel this week. He works close to one of the trouble spots. It’s unusual that this kind of protest would make it out to our side of Managua. These protests don’t usually affect us on this western edge of town. And if it weren’t for the constant booms and periodic sound of sirens, we could easily pretend that none of this is happening. After all, that’s what most of the world does with any kind of elsewhere-conflict unless it has a direct impact on a nation. But we can’t ignore it. It’s what’s happening here and the increase in the frequency of the booms is the constant reminder we’re in a nation that’s pushing itself to the brink.

Nicas love their fireworks. You don’t see the big fountains or rockets bursting in the air, showering down sparks and streams of colored fire. But you do hear the deep, resounding boom of their explosives. And they will add those booms to any kind of celebration…or apparently, any kind of protest. But now, they’ve added mortars. Many are home-made jobs, but according to some of the news sources, there are some military type mortars being fired as well. Either way, it’s a level of protest that shouldn’t have been reached. I don’t know how this is going to be settled without further casualties. They’re going too far here. I hate fighting. I hate what it does to people inside and out. The ones who will win this “conflict” certainly won’t be the ones who are fighting it in the streets, I can assure you. The dirt they bear on their hands doesn’t come from picking up rocks. I think it’s most likely coming from dirty money.

I’ve been thinking about something. We were told that this country is filled with missionaries and that it is considered a Christian nation. I can understand the first part of that statement. I’ve never agreed with the second. If that were true, would any of this be happening? Is this loving your brother as yourself?

I had someone ask me on the phone today if I was afraid. The answer tonight is no. The booms and the sirens are still far away. This fight is not mine. It’s someone else’s. Much like it was during the times of civil unrest in our own country in the sixties and seventies. Those scenes on the television were mesmerizing. But they didn’t touch me. I was safe in my own home. Like now. We’re safe in our own home. That’s the answer tonight.

For awhile tonight, the booms had stopped. I had hope. They’ve begun again. I guess that means the people in the streets have their own hopes, although obviously different than those of the guy on the other end of the rock, the machete or the mortar round. I suppose a suggestion to settle differences with three fast-paced rounds of rock, paper, scissors would be out of the question. There would be no boom.

Surprise, surprise, surprise...

It seems like every time we make the trip to Rio Blanco, there’s always a nugget of the unusual tossed in just to make the trip interesting. This trip was no different in that respect. It was a trip filled with little surprises. Wikipedia defines surprise as, “a brief emotional state that is the result of experiencing an unexpected event. Surprise can have any valence; that is, it can be neutral, pleasant, or unpleasant.”

We left Friday afternoon with Jim driving Susanna’s car and Pastor Sergio riding up with us. As usual, we didn’t leave on time…that’s one of the things that’s most difficult for me to get used to…that schedules are more suggestions. No surprise there.

Freddy had decided he would stay the night Friday night so that our house would not be left empty. We told him it wasn’t necessary but he didn’t like the idea of no one being here at night. We set him up in the bedroom downstairs that can be accessed only through the exterior entrances. It is where we keep the gardening tools and Freddy is accustomed to it. It has its own bathroom and shower which makes it nice for things like this. We put up the mattresses that had come with the bunk beds we had bought months ago. They are typical Nica mattresses, definitely not the kind Americans are used to sleeping on, and are easily folded in half. We gave him a plastic chair and table to use and told him we would probably be back Saturday night and that it wasn’t necessary for him to be here and that it would be okay.

When we arrived at Sergio’s house to pick him up, his wife and one of his sons were outside to see him off. There was also a gentleman sitting just inside their gate and he looked familiar. Recognition hit both of us at the same time. It was Simon, the man from Rio Blanco, whose house the team from South Carolina worked on when they were here in June. He is the gentleman who has had a leg amputated and has been having some serious health issues at the site of the amputation as a result. We visited him again in July to see how he was doing. Simon is one of the people we took a food basket to when we were there. He is also the gentleman for whom we paid to have transported to Managua to seek medical treatment. He recently had another surgery and it has been a lengthy and painful ordeal for him. We always ask Sergio how he’s doing but we had no idea we would find him at Sergio’s house.

It seems that he needed a place to stay that was closer to the hospital where he’s currently taking treatments – Sergio says it’s chemotherapy, but someone else says she thinks it’s physical therapy. Either way, it’s taken him away from his home and his family. Simon was staying with another friend but the financial strain was proving to be too great on that family. That’s when Sergio stepped in to help.

It was such a nice surprise to see him and to see his smile when he realized it was us in the car. He just lit up and instinctively, tried to stand. He grabbed his homemade crutch and reached for his shoe to put on his remaining foot. We were in a hurry and so I waved him to stay there but we hollered greetings at one another, like two old friends. And I hope when we left Sergio’s house that Simon had the same warm feeling watching us pull away that I did as I waved goodbye.

Simon said in July that God brought us here as a gift to him. It was such a sweet thing to say and it was so nice to hear, but that’s a humbling thing, you know it? It’s a praise that is weighty with responsibility. We do feel a burden for Simon and it’s been such a privilege to be able to help him through the giving of others. We want him to know that our God is a big God who loves His children equally and that we believe we are blessed to be a blessing. That the acts of kindness and caring do not come from us, not even from you, but are fruits from the Spirit that are being poured out on and through God’s children. Simon is more than a person in need whom we have been able to help. He is our brother because we share the same Father.

Another pleasant surprise came when we had just passed Matiguas, the last small community we go through before getting to Rio Blanco. It was nearing dark and all of a sudden, Sergio hollered for Jim to stop the car. It seems we were passing a place that makes molasses…or that’s what they call it, anyway. Here it is used as a supplement to feed the cattle. Susanna had been asking where she could find molasses and Sergio pointed this place out.

Jim stopped the car and backed up in to the yard/driveway area of the place. We got out and saw probably ½ dozen or so men working and just as many sitting around and watching. It was a fascinating procedure and I wish it would have been lighter so the pictures would be easier to see but I will try to describe the process.

The only artificial light was from a light bulb strung over the center of activity where two oxen were yoked together (equally, I assume) and were fastened like a spoke in a wheel to a “hub” which contained a mechanical press. They were motivated to keep walking in a circle by a young man with a switch who walked behind them, swatting them periodically. He walked with a pronounced limp and I wondered if that was the only kind of work he would be able to find. He stared at us with great curiosity. There was another man standing before a table filled with cut sugar cane which had been stripped of all foliage. That man would feed the stalks of cane in to the press. The oxen powered the press to crush the cane and they caught the liquid “sugar” in to a bucket. There was a third man on the other side of the press who would remove the remnants of the pressed cane.

The next step was to take the buckets of liquid sugar over to a huge open oven which was fueled by wood. There was a giant vat, of sorts, that lay on top of the oven. The liquid sugar was put in the vat and another couple of men would stir it. The heat was intense from the fire. As the sugar boils down, it creates a syrup. There was another man who somehow opened a drain and filled buckets with the dark, thick syrup. Susanna was disappointed to find out that the molasses wouldn’t be ready until much later that night or perhaps, even the next morning. So, our time there was over.

The whole scene was mesmerizing and I could have stood and watched for much longer but we still had a ways to go to get to Rio Blanco. In just the fifteen minutes or so that we were there watching, the sun had quickly gone down. We would once again be entering Rio Blanco in the dark. And boy, was it dark. The power was out. Surprise!

After dropping Sergio off at his brother’s house, we headed back out to the hotel. One of the workers and the security guard recognized all of us and came to meet us with flashlights. There is a great deal of construction going on at the hotel and the owner is adding more rooms and a “conference” room. The young man who asked us about what kind of rooms we needed wanted to know if we wanted air conditioning. We told him “no” and then later laughed at the question…the power was out…what good would air conditioning do us?

We were shown to our rooms…thankfully, we had a different room than last time. Hopefully, the bedbugs hadn’t found this one yet. It was really a pretty nice room, all in all. The double bed had a bedskirt but no bottom sheet and a twin size top sheet. The pillows were in bright, red pillow shams which were made of some sort of thick, heavy material. But it was a clean room. We had a little sink, a small table with a color tv, a straight backed wooden chair and two floor fans. The bathroom “door” was a shower curtain liner and the shower was huge. The one thing that was the same was the nice “refreshing” mountain stream water. Br-r-r-r!!!

We had each thought to bring flashlights so we were able to see to open the window and we opened our door to get a breeze through the room and it actually was quite nice. Susanna had ordered our dinner when we first arrived and we ate dinner on a plastic table with two candles stuck in beer bottles. We were hungry and the food was excellent. The candle lit dinner was perfect and we enjoyed our time. But by 8:00, we were all exhausted and ready to go to bed. It had been a long day. Just as we got up to leave the table, the lights came back on. It was then that we got a better idea of the amount of work that was being done in regards to the expansion. You can see in these pictures that I took the following morning some of the “scaffolding” they use, donated by "clear-cutters-r-us"! Just kidding.

When Jim and I returned to the room, we put down a blanket and a sheet on top of the bedskirt. We had brought them from home, along with our own pillows, in hopes of putting some distance between us and the bedbugs. Jim and I made sure we were well-covered with our heavily laden deet bug spray and we retired for the night, praying that morning would find us bite-free. Thankfully, those prayers were answered as we had hoped. I hate to say we were surprised…I prefer to think we were blessed!

We were off to set up the clinic at the church by 7:15 Saturday morning. It was a slow start and we weren’t sure we would have very many people at all but by mid-morning, the place was jammed and the pace remained hectic for the remainder of the day. Susanna lost count on her numbering of patients that she checked in, but we think there were somewhere between 115 and 125. We finally finished up with the last patient leaving about 5:00, realizing we hadn't taken any pictures since early that morning. The only time Jim and I sat down was for our 20 minute break for lunch. The rest of the day found us bent over a table, counting pills, writing labels, tagging meds. It was a hard day for us two oldies…my neck and shoulders still hurt today.

Another surprise. ..I didn’t really expect to see anyone I would know – not in Rio Blanco, especially. But I looked up to see a dark, serious young man rounding the top of the steps and once again, dual recognition happened as we saw one another’s faces. It was Fausto! He was the Nicaraguan carpenter who headed up the construction when the S.C. team was there in June! I never really expected to see him again after that week as he lives quite a distance from Rio Blanco – several hours away. But he had heard about the clinic and had come to town that day to do some shopping and to take advantage of the low-cost treatment. We all shook hands and hugged in the typical Nica fashion and it was such a delight to see another heartfelt smile from a contact we had made months earlier. I love how God weaves people together. It was obvious he was as surprised to see us as we were him.

Fausto’s not a believer in Jesus but he couldn’t escape the reminder that Jesus was caring for him through those in that room. He was checked in by a Christian nurse. He had to wait for over two hours listening to Christian music – obviously not the old hymns or the contemporary Christian music that we love but still, music that praises God. He met with a Christian doctor, was prayed over by a Christian pastor and had his prescriptions filled by Christian missionaries. I wonder what he was thinking as he left yesterday. We pray that God will call to him through visions and dreams and that he will remember there are people in Rio Blanco who care for the health of his soul as well as for the health of his body.

We left Rio Blanco at 5:30. One more surprise. Ramon, a friend of Sergio’s and Susanna’s wanted to go back to Managua with us. Susanna said he was a professional driver and knew the roads. Jim and I were both bushed so we climbed in the back and Ramon drove with Susanna up front. He crept along, slower than the molasses we didn’t get. We thought we would never get home. Until he hit the main road going back in to Managua and then it was as though a fire had been lit under that boy! It is with all seriousness when I tell you that he drove faster once we were in Managua than when we were on our way there. There were more than a few times that I prayed we wouldn’t hit anyone or be hit. Again, God was merciful and we made it home without a scratch…even tighter neck and shoulder muscles but thankfully, nothing more serious than that.

We pulled up in front of our gate to unload our stuff and the beam of a flashlight was coming up the driveway. It was Freddy…faithful and good to his word. He welcomed us with his smile and immediately began carrying our things to our porch. He asked about our trip and I asked about his family. He then said he had something to show me. He took me out to our front yard where he had planted flowers and the start off a bush I had loved at the old house. It was a wonderful surprise! He was as pleased at my reaction as I was at his action. I told Freddy that Jim could take him home since the buses had quit running and he said that he would stay the night downstairs again because it was dangerous for Jim to be driving in his neighborhood that time of night. He said he had told his family he would be here all night and so they wouldn’t be expecting him. And so, we all said good-night. Freddy went down to “his” room and the nicest surprise of all was when we came inside…it felt good...we noticed it’s starting to feel like home…“a brief emotional state that is the result of experiencing an unexpected event…”

Prayers needed this weekend...

I almost forgot to mention this...we're leaving this afternoon to go up to Rio Blanco to hold our second medical clinic. We would appreciate prayers for a successful clinic, for protection with travel, for our home while we're gone and from bedbugs! Most of all, we would appreciate prayers that God would be glorified through this work. Thank you for your faithfulness to partner with us through your prayers. I will let you know how this clinic goes...

More on Freddy...

As I write this, I’m listening to a sound I don’t remember hearing for more than fifty years…the sound of a manually operated rotary push mower. It’s ours. Boy, does that sound bring back memories. My grandfather had one until the lure of a gas operated mower proved to be too strong. I can still see in my mind’s eye, the gentle giant I called, “Grampa”, mowing their yard, carefully avoiding Grandma’s flowers. It seemed to take him all morning to mow his small back yard but everything then seemed to move more slowly and leisurely. In many respects, I’m reliving that time frame. Somehow the slow pace seems sweeter in nostalgic reflection than it does in current reality.

One of my favorite people here is Freddy, our gardener. He’s the one who has brought these memories to mind. But instead of smelling the sweet smell of freshly cut grass, the pungent fragrance of cilantro is “perfuming” the entire house. Some memories are a little more work to embrace than others. Our new place has a much larger grassy area than did our old one. We knew Freddy would have to cut it by hand with a machete unless we bought a lawn mower. We also knew he wouldn’t complain one bit if that was what he had to do. It’s certainly how he would be expected to cut it.

We’ve discussed getting a mower since we moved here but just couldn’t bring ourselves to make the investment. As are most conveniences here, they are quite costly. We finally opted for this man-powered machine for several reasons. We knew Freddy would be using it and we were a bit concerned about his safety with a gas mower. Fingers and toes are finite and it only takes one accident to leave with fewer digits than when one arrived. We knew it would obviously be less costly to operate than a gas mower and we liked the idea of it being more environmentally friendly. And probably, one of the main factors is it was about $170 cheaper than the cheapest gas mower! Now we’re down to the nitty gritty of the matter. There’s no doubt those factors cost us the ease of a gas mower, but it’s still better than being bent over all day, using a machete to cut the grass.

That fact was reinforced to us by the grin of delight that appeared on Freddy’s face when Jim showed him the mower on Wednesday and how to use it. He was thrilled! And then, with all the sobriety and sincerity of a deeply dedicated OSHA inspector, Freddy told us he would mow the grass on Friday and asked us to please get him a pair of safety glasses. He explained to me (since I’m a woman and couldn’t possibly understand the intricacies of yard equipment), that it could be “muy peligroso”…very dangerous, to use the mower without safety glasses. Of course. Jim was thrilled it gave us yet another excuse to return to Richardson’s, the hardware store. Oh, yea. Jim’s enlarged his man-toy territory and we have another hardware store to add to our repertoire.

I just checked on Freddy to see how the mowing was going with the machete-on-wheels. He seems to be quite happy with the performance and he looks quite dashing with his new safety glasses. His smile of gratitude is priceless. It’s one he shows us frequently.

Right before we were moving in to this house, Freddy worked an extra day for us. He helped Jim move the loaded action packers and acted as a day guard while we left to go get new padlocks for the gates and doors. Because he was staying longer than normal on a day that was not a typical workday, we brought back lunch from one of our favorite little restaurants, Dona Blanca’s, for all of us to eat. This is one of those places that would scare you to death to think that we were going to ingest something cooked there but the food is remarkably good. And anymore, honestly, we just don’t even notice the dirt, the one-eyed dog and cat that wander through the place or the parrot in the open air kitchen. The warm greeting from Dona Blanca, the hug and kiss from the waitress and the stares and then smiles from the other patrons seem to overshadow the other stuff.

We had only our plastic lawn chairs and a little plastic table in the house at that time. I set up the lunch and called to Jim and Freddy, letting them know the food was ready. Jim came in to wash up but no sign of Freddy. We went to see where he was and he was out on the front porch and had washed off using the outside spigot. He would not come in to our house until Jim told him it was okay and motioned for him to come and sit at the table with us. He was bashful and uncertain. Jim took my hand and we both reached for Freddy’s so that Jim could give thanks for our food. Freddy, realizing we were going to pray, took off his hat and then, took our hands. As Jim prayed, so did Freddy. It was a special sound. Hearing these two precious men, thanking our Lord for their blessings, in their own native languages…I just knew Jesus was joining us for that lunch.

We had just gotten three dinners all alike – baked chicken with chayote and carrots, rice, beans and a potato stuffed with queso. It was delicious as usual and more food than Jim and I could eat. I noticed Freddy ate all of his except part of his chicken of which he had only taken a couple of bites. He asked if he could have a piece of paper to wrap it up to take home. I got him some napkins and a baggie and thought he must not be crazy about chicken but chose to take it home, not wanting to hurt my feelings by not eating it. I really didn’t think much more about it.

The next day, Freddy was working for us, again helping Jim move some things over in preparation for the large furniture and Susanna and I had taken her car to go pick up some things. We returned about lunch time and Susanna dropped me off and ran to pick up some lunch for the four of us at a little restaurant not too far from our house…another good place to get typical Nica food. She got 4 different meals with two of them being chicken and two being beef…all had beans, rice and tejadas (fried plantains). We let Freddy choose first and he chose one with chicken. Again, three of us had more food than we could eat and because I was busy talking instead of eating (imagine that!), I had quite a bit of food left. Freddy’s plate was clean except for the chicken…with just a few bites taken out. Again, he asked for a napkin. I repeated the previous day’s baggie and napkins donation.

As he and Jim were getting ready to go back out to the carport, I said something to Susanna that Freddy must not like chicken much and explained what he had done with the chicken both days. She said that chicken is expensive and is probably not a regular part of his families’ diet so that he was most likely taking it home as a treat for Gabriel, his little boy. My face must have revealed how upset I felt at hearing that as Susanna said that it was just how it is here for many folks. I couldn’t take another bite. My appetite was totally gone. My heart hurt with the understanding of his poverty and I could feel the tears building. Just when I think I’m “hardened” a bit to this place, I’m surprised by own tenderness. It’s true that this family of Freddy’s isn’t starving…but neither are they thriving.

Freddy brought the other dishes in to the kitchen to me and as I was standing there, staring out the window, he asked me if I was okay. He worries a lot about Jim and me. I told him I was fine. He asked if I was sick because I hadn’t eaten all my lunch. I told him no, I wasn’t hungry and then, praying I wouldn’t offend him, I asked him very quietly, if he would like to take my piece of chicken home also. He smiled that smile that is lit from within and nodded yes, as he just as quietly, answered, “Si.” And so for the third time in two days, I grabbed another baggie. I added in the beans, rice and tejadas. And I prayed God would multiply that lunch just as He had two thousand years ago with some fish and bread. We are such blessed people here…we get to be on both ends of a miracle…we get to be the giver of the “fish” for God to multiply and we get to be the recipients of genuinely heart-felt gratitude that comes bursting forth in a joyous smile…both feel like miracles on our end.

Do come in...

I want to apologize to those of you who have been worried because the blogs have been few and far between for the last month or so. Being in a transient state was definitely not conducive to writing. I need to be "nestled-in" in order to commit to blogging. It's been a long time since I've felt that. Hopefully, I'm back on track. We appreciate your concerns so much.

This blog will be all about the new house. So many of you have asked what it’s like so I will give you a tour. Lots of pics will follow so allow some time. We live in a very wealthy neighborhood…we’re the poor folks, here, believe me. Our house and the house west of us are both rental houses. Because the economy is struggling here, we were able to rent this house for only $25 more than we were paying previously. American style houses rent for outlandish amounts here and so we were pleased to have found something that we hope will prove to be secure and be made to feel like home.

I will have to take a picture of some of the other houses so you can see the type of neighborhood we’re in but I didn’t want to wait any longer to get the pictures of our house posted, so you’ll have to wait to see those another time. The reason the neighborhood is important is that most of these houses have security cameras, dogs and armed guards. Those are all deterrents and we’re hoping that anyone interested in breaking in will assume this neighborhood is too difficult. One of our neighbors has two very noise-sensitive dogs that alert us to every walker, cat or pig that happens to pass by…we’re not complaining.

The people who lived here before us took the “guts” out of the alarm system here but maybe the appearance of one will make a casual thief think twice. Our yard is surrounded with a concrete wall topped by razor wire. The walk in gate is padlocked and the drive-in gate has two padlocks. All doors and windows have bars with the exterior doors all having padlocks that are designed to be bolt-cutter-proof and pick-proof…for whatever that really means. The wooden doors’ locks aren’t the best but we’re much more secure here than we were in the old house…or at least we believe we are. We’re still in the process of trying to find a night guard who is trustworthy and won’t sleep on the job! A difficult combination, it seems.

The area we live in is about 2 ½ kilometers closer to Managua than we were before. It is what used to be a little community called Ticomo and the residential area we live in is called Lomas de Ticomo…the Hills of Ticomo. It appears to be much quieter than where we were before. We have a beautiful view and are high enough that we get a pretty good breeze…that’s worth the extra money each month, believe me! Our yard has coconut trees, platanos and a reserve water tank! Another added benefit since 24 hour availability of water is so sporadic. The pressure is good early in the morning and late at night with it pretty weak during the day. We just make sure we take showers either very early or very late! And I have already learned to allow an hour to an hour and a half to do a load of wash. The clothesline gets morning to early afternoon sun. We’re still close to the same bus route so we were able to retain Freddy and Margarita. I can’t tell you how much that means to us…they’re an important part of our lives here. Okay…now for the tour...won't you come in?

This is the front of the house. I'm taking the picture from inside the front gates. Jim is taking a break on the porch after having moved some of our plants. I'm sure at that point he was wondering why we couldn't have had a love for stamps or something else small and lightweight...his poor back!

This is our little upper front yard right inside the gates. It is about the only place that has nice grass...the rest of the yard is coarse grass and weeds.

This is looking down at the side yard from the upper yard. The lot is triangular shaped and all of the yard is on one side of the house. This is also where the reserve water tank is located...it's tucked in with the platanos. The concrete wall borders the carport on the other side.

These next two photos are of the rest of the side yard and the back yard...and a load of laundry utilizing our solar dryer! Take a peek over the concrete wall and you'll see the top of an inactive volcano called Cerro Motastepe. It is now a protected area by the government, shadowing the Nejapa Laguna and is one of my favorite sites in Managua.

These pictures are of the side and back of the house...yes, it's true, we have a basement...it's a walk-out basement but it's still a basement. They're not very common here. The picture on the left is from the carport. The one on the right is of our very small deck that is off the kitchen and wraps around to the spare bedroom.

Oh, here's our latest acquisition. We've been looking for a small patio set ever since we arrived here in the country, but they're just ridiculously expensive. Now that we're in this house, the deck is so narrow, we didn't think we could find anything that would work for us. We came across this set today at a store that carries a little bit of everything. It was on sale for $84 American. We were thrilled to find something that would fit and that wasn't over $200 so we didn't hesitate to get it. It's not a heavy duty set by any means, but we will certainly enjoy it. When we got the box home, we discoverd the set had these tags on the chairs! Imagine our surprise. Not so much that it was a Wal-Mart item...we see that name every now and then on items here...nope, the surprise was that we paid only $10 more than we would have paid for it in the States! Jim thinks that was a pretty cheap shipping and handling charge to get it to Nicaragua!

Okay, that's the outside...hope you have a good idea of how the house is laid out. Now, please come inside. Stepping through the front door, you are immediately in the dining room area. You Right past the dining room table, on the left and just past the carport door, is our little reading nook. That's the fancy name for the only place we could find to put this wicker rocker! To keep up with the false airs, please note the cozy and efficient combination foyer and entry area to the right. Another handy area to tuck a rocker. The little half circle cut out above the rocker looks down on the basement steps...it has a like cut out in the breakfast area. Just past the breakfast table, you step up in to the spacious gourmet kitchen. Not! It's very small compared to the kitchen in the old house, but it works. We had to purchase the tall free-standing cabinet to have a place to put our food and paper goods. The kitchen actually has more cabinets than do most typical Nicaraugan homes.

Wow! That kitchen looks pretty good in the picture. If you could see it in person, you would notice that the counter top tiles are chipped, cracked and broken in numerous places. The base cabinets are set on rough finished concrete - no cabinet base, no tile. The faucet is new...because Jim had to replace the old one. It was broken. The shallow stainless sink is rusted in places and is missing strainer baskets on both sinks...sounds simple but those little gems appear to be rare finds here. With all that being said, I'm making it work. It's light and I've got a great view out the kitchen window. In just a few short days, I've learned to look past the concrete wall and through the concertina wire...it's a good kitchen. Here's our little breakfast nook...okay, once again, it's about the only the place to put this table. Actually, it's really nice there as it sits in line between the front door and the back and we get a pretty good breeze there.

Back in the dining room, we are now looking in to the living room. It has two entries...one from the dining room area and the other from the bedroom hall. We managed to get the upholstered furniture in there plus a couple of rockers. The tv now sits on the bamboo unit we were previously using for our "media center"...in other words, it used to hold the laptops and our printer. But since that wall is so large, we decided to turn it into a tv cabinet. Of course, we have to have the fan - that's standard equipment for just about any room. The end tables are the sleek and stylish action packers that we used to pack our belongings in when we moved to Nicaragua. Oh, yes, please note the spicy, contemporary curtains...they're our shower curtains from the previous house. They really don't look too bad.

Now we'll go take a quick look at the two bedrooms we have upstairs. Both have bathrooms attached. There is another small unfinished room downstairs that could be a bedroom and there's a small maid's bathroom with it. The utility room is down there also. The fourth bedroom is actually only accessible through the outside. It, too, has it's own bathroom. Only the bathrooms upstairs have widow-makers in the showers...hot water. And that's only because we replaced the non-working units that were in there...I won't discuss our landlady here. Sufficeto say that we have different ideas of what "working" means. Jim also has had to replace the "guts" to all four toilets...again, a different viewpoint re: the terms working and functional. And while I'm thinking about it, he also had to caulk the shower as it was leaking. He always has been good at household repairs, but he's really being put to the test this week. Okay...here's our bedroom and bath. You will see a window unit a/c installed in the wall...sounds like a wonderful asset to a house in this climate. It probably is if it works. This one doesn't.


This is the hallway leading to the back bedroom. This actually is my favorite bedroom. It has great light, excellent ventilation and a door that opens out on to the little deck. You can see it from the outside in the pictures above that show the back of the house. It sits directly above the 4th bedroom which I said had to be accessed from the outside. It also has its own bathroom and a small closet. There are actually only 2 closets upstairs and 1 closet in the basement. Not a lot of "hidden" storage. This back bedroom is currently acting as our junk/storage/ironing room until we get a bookcase and a bed for that room. We will be doing that in the next couple of weeks as we have company coming for Christmas!!!!! And because we don't want any of us sleeping on a couch or the floor, we will be making that room much more welcoming than it is right now.

Well, that's our house. Thanks for coming to take a look....let us know if you would like to see it in person!

We Interupt This Blog For An Important Political Statement...

I hate politics...but I'll get to that in a minute. We’re finally in the new house. Everything has been moved and most of it put in place. With the exception of those things that don’t yet have a place…this house lacks the storage the other house had. We’ve already had to buy a cabinet in which to keep our food as we discovered the shallow kitchen cabinets are much more decorative than they are functional…and they’re not exceptionally decorative! I think we’re going to have to invest in a book case and a desk of some sort for the laptop. We’ll have to go see what we can find this week. Today we’re home.

I grew up in a family that was extremely active in politics. I hate politics. I hate what it does to those who are running for office and to those who support them. Yesterday was Election Day for mayors of 146 of the 153 municipalities in Nicaragua. The remaining seven municipalities’ elections are postponed until January due to widespread damage from last year’s hurricanes.

This has been a very heated race throughout the country but especially here in Managua. I think it best not to go in to the details of the political situation here but will say that there have been charges of strong arm tactics, voter fraud, and illegal voting practices, etc. We continue to hear sirens periodically in the streets below us heading in to Managua and the images and reporting that come across the television screen are meant to incite and polarize. Divide and conquer…an age old tactic that still works well.

There has been rioting, rock throwing, fighting and demonstrations with thousands marching in the streets in Managua the last two days. The police are not doing much other than trying to avoid getting hurt themselves. Emotions are obviously running high and in anticipation of such occurrences, the American Embassy here issued a warning for all Americans to stay off the streets and in their homes keeping a low profile the day before, the day of and the day after the election. That’s not been hard for us to do. We’re pooped from moving!

Speaking of elections, the recent U.S. election made front page news here. The alliances of Cuba, Nicaragua, Venezuela, Russia and Iran appear to be very pleased that Barack Obama is the new President. I can’t say that I am quite as optimistic. I’m reminded that we should be careful what we ask for as God just may let us have it. It’s going to be an interesting four years both here and there.

Mud-slinging, rock-throwing, name-calling, self-serving, lying words, false promises - common practices for many, if not most, of the people we put in the position of leadership who say what itching ears want to hear. Governments can’t save us…only God can save us. Why is it we believe men with lying tongues but choose not to believe the words of our Creator God? Could it be that our hearts aren’t any more pure than those whom we elect to office? I hate politics…it’s such a clear mirror.

Now...on to a lighter subject...our new home. As soon as Jim downloads the pictures, I'll post them so you can take a mini-tour.