Rough reflection...

Since this is a holiday weekend, I’ve had lots of time today to catch up on my blogging. As I’m typing this, I realize it’s still hazy out…I can’t see the hills on the far side of the lake today nor can I see the volcano. I have a feeling it’s going to be pretty miserable later on today. As it is, even with all three fans going here in the bedroom, I’m sweating.
We had really heavy thunderstorms last night…several hours of unbelievable lightning and thunder. ..it was quite a show. And miraculously, our power stayed on through it all! Although the storms brought cooler temps at the time, it was still difficult to sleep with the amplified light show. And today, it’s just hot and sticky!
There’s been lots of activity out back. With this being a holiday weekend (it’s Labor Day here), the squatters on the hillside have decided that it would be a good time to bring electricity in to their community. They started early yesterday morning by digging holes across the road to set their electric poles…which are actually slender trees they have brought in and have cut all the branches off of them. There was quite a crowd out there…I decided it wouldn’t be the smartest thing to take a picture of them while they were working as they are stealing the electricity off a power pole up the road a little ways. I’m wondering where they “bought” the electric wire from…
It just seems so crazy to me that these are the same people who are avid supporters of the current government…and yet they’re stealing revenue from the government run electric company. They are also the same folks who participate in the religious parades of their patron saints…I am sure they would call themselves religious and are quick to use the phrase, “Gracias a dios” – “Thanks be to God” but they are blatantly stealing. Baffling…
On Friday, Raquel who is the director at CINAFE, asked us to take her, the cook and one of the girls to the market and then on to Pali, which is a grocery store here. It’s like a box store and is one step above the market and one step below a regular grocery store. Some Americans shop there but not many as the regular grocery store is so much more comfortable. Pali doesn’t have near the selection and if you want your groceries in bags, you must pay for them. You are also responsible for bagging your own groceries and getting them out to your car…or to the bus or taxi. It’s a bare-bones shopping experience and not nearly as much fun as the market but it’s also a little less risky…so I guess it’s a toss-up as to which I prefer.
We went to the market first to buy some fresh fruits and vegetables. We had taken Raquel the week before and took her to the stand that we buy from. Raquel still lives at home and so her mother does the shopping. They live in a neighborhood that is quite a distance from our end of town so she wasn’t at all familiar with the Israel market.
Last week, when we went, the vendors, Juan and Gloria, were very glad to see us again and we were given all kinds of free fruit. They basically ignored Raquel until I introduced her and told them that she was there to buy produce for a children’s home. Gloria assured me she would give her a good price. Raquel and I smiled at each other…we both knew that Gloria was going to try to get every last cordoba that she could…it’s how it is done here. Both parties bargain until they come to a price they can agree on.
This visit, Natalie was back and she and Gloria had a tougher customer with Teresa, the cook. Teresa is very saavy about shopping at the markets and she knows good produce from the lesser quality stuff. We basically turned her loose with Gloria and Natalie. Raquel more or less watched and Francela (one of the teen girls from CINAFE) wrote down all the prices on their list. Jim and I ate bananas while we watched the women fuss back and forth about the prices. The market is always busy but it seemed even busier Friday. We didn’t get there until the afternoon so the selection wasn’t the best but that didn’t seem to stop the shoppers from coming. I suppose it was because people were getting ready for the weekend.
As we were finishing the shopping up at the market, a little girl appeared and just kept staring at us. Gloria brought her over to me and introduced her as her granddaughter…Natalie Maria who is four years old. She is in her first year of preschool and told me she likes school but she likes to play better. She was the cutest little girl and she had to show me that her neck was sore. Her neck did look raw and irritated and so I asked Gloria what was wrong and she told me it was heat rash. I asked Jim to see if we had any candy left in the car and there were a couple of pieces. I gave them to Natalie Maria and told her I hoped her neck felt better and immediately, she was all smiles.
We got everything loaded and then went to Pali. It was packed. Pali is always a noisy, busy store and rarely do you see any manners being exercised. People cut in front of you in line, they push you out of the way, move your cart or reach across your face to get something. The first time we went, I was intimidated. The second time, I was a seasoned shopper! And although I don’t resort to any of the above behaviors, neither am I a shrinking violet when it’s time to shop. It’s kind of like driving here in Managua. You just keep moving and drive your cart both offensively and defensively at the same time. It’s controlled chaos at its best!
We had to get a few things for ourselves so Raquel, Teresa and Francela took a cart and began to shop and we did the same. We each got in a different line so that we finished up about the same time. While waiting to check out, we heard several big claps of thunder and then it began to pour. Finally, it let up some so that we could get out to the car and get all the groceries loaded.
Raquel wanted to get some cheese and cream from the cheese man who was selling his goods from a little stand set up right by the road. We all walked over there…Jim and I were curious and just observed the process. The vendor realized we weren’t buying anything so we basically became invisible. But he cut off a little piece of cheese for Raquel, Teresa and Francela to try…he knew those were his customers. American’s don’t buy his kind of cheese.
Raquel bought 6# of cheese and 4# of cream. The cheese was a soft, white cheese and the cream thick and yellowish. The cheese was sliced off a large block that was wrapped in a towel and it was weighed. The guy was really good and was almost perfect with the amount he cut. The cream came in little bags and each bag weighed a pound. The cost of the cheese and the cream came to less than $15.
I asked the gals when we got back in the car if that was good cheese and they all agreed that it was. Raquel told me that they came from the cows in Juigalpa. I asked if that was a better area for cheese and cream and she quickly said that it was. She said that there is a saying that Juigalpa is where the rivers are made of cream and the rocks are made of cheese. The Nicaraguans are such a poetic people.
We had planned on going on to PriceSmart but Raquel received a call that one of the accountants was at CINAFE and waiting on her so we hurried back to drop the gals and the goods off. We then headed over to our copy place to pick up some material we had copied to possibly use in some future children’s classes.
On the way to the copy store, we noticed there was an unusually high number of police on some of the streets. They weren’t working per se, (stopping traffic to write tickets), but were standing as though waiting for something or someone. We wondered if there were going to be more demonstrations or if perhaps, the president or a foreign dignitary was coming through. We both assumed it was in anticipation of a demonstration of some sort as the police were unarmed. They generally just stand by and watch when those occur and rarely get involved, even when there is violence occurring and people being hurt. This is an area where we judge these guys based on our own cultural beliefs…we believe the police should “serve and protect”. We don’t see that happening. I think they are more in place to try to increase revenue. It is becoming more and more a lawless land…
When we were beginning to pull in to the copy store parking lot, which is located across the street from a university, we were shocked to see such a large number of students gathered there. There were buses that were unloading students, not picking them up. When we got inside the copy store, I asked them what was going on and they said it was because of the holiday. This was almost 4:00 in the afternoon so we were surprised that they were just starting to assemble…it looked like it was going to be some party.
We left the copy place and were the next to the last car allowed to go on the main road. We saw the police were beginning to close off streets and we began meeting lots of buses coming from the other direction…all of them waving Sandanista flags. It looked as though the Labor Day afternoon gathering was going to turn in to another excuse for a political demonstration.
Traffic had come to a standstill and Jim and I both were uneasy. There were homemade mortars being shot and lots of whooping and hollering. We were on the outer lane but had a huge culvert on the right of us...we were stuck. I took several pictures but because I took them when we were moving, they didn’t come out. (Our little digital camera does not have the capability of stop action photography so unless I’m perfectly still, our pics don’t turn out. Frustrating because we or our subjects seem to always be on the move! ) Even so, I only took a few pics because for the most part, we decided to try to stay as inconspicuous as possible. We saw that many were drinking and that many of the truckloads that were passing had young men, waving their machetes and flags. The “people’s party” looked to be intent on raising cain somewhere.
Thankfully, we were soon able to start moving again and passed dozens of buses on our way home, all headed toward a central meeting place…they reminded me of lemmings going to the sea. We found out from our guard that there were going to be very few city buses running until Tuesday as the government had hired the majority of them to bring in loyal party members from all over the country to celebrate the government’s stance on taking care of the working man. I have one word for that…Ha! It would better serve the people if the “government” would get out in to the barrios and see how their people have to live. Sadly, though, I doubt if it would make any difference…greed, graft and corruption seem to remain the driving force in politics here. I can’t help but think that if Christians would do what Christians are supposed to do, that things would change. It makes me scrutinize myself and my witness even more.
Remember that children’s song, O Be Careful Little Eyes What You See? I’m about to issue that warning here…you might not like what you’re about to read. As I usually do, when I am convicted about something, I want to share the conviction!
I am currently reading the book, In His Steps, by Sidney Sheldon. I may have already told you that… It’s a fictional story that was written in the late 1800s and it began the WWJD movement years later…it’s a book well worth reading and according to Wikipedia, I’m not alone in believing that. “First published in 1896, the fictional book has sold more than 30,000,000 copies, and ranks as the 39th best-selling book of all time…” If you’ve not read it, I heartily recommend it. If you know me very well, you know I am a reader but I’m very careful about what I read and what I recommend. I have no hesitations in endorsing this one.
But as sometimes happens when I’ve read something really powerful, I’m haunted by the message of this book so that recommendation comes with a warning. More than a trite saying found on rubber bracelets, the “What would Jesus do?” question has been plaguing me at the oddest times. It’s more than me asking the question of what would Jesus do? It’s what I then do with the answer.
The effect this book has had on me has been much like Don’t Waste Your Life by John Piper and The Autobiography of George Mueller. That thought occurred to me when I reflected upon us being in the middle of all those soon-to-be demonstrators. What would Jesus do if He were in the middle of a potentially explosive crowd? Would He be frightened and wish He were somewhere else? Oh, yeah…He had been in the middle of that type of crowd and He had also been in the middle of the crowd after it had exploded. So, what did He do? He remembered His mission and He remembered why He was sent on that mission…and His heart broke for His “people group”.
Reading this book has really jarred me. It is so easy to get caught up in the politics of this country…and in the politics of the States. The Three Big O’s (Oprah, Obama and Ortega) won’t save us and our politics won’t save us. The only Savior is Jesus Christ. If only our fervor for Him was as great as our fervor for political debate or for the queen of talk shows. (Don’t let me get started on Oprah!) What a different world we might live in.
We blame Satan and sin for the terrible conditions of the world…I don’t argue his involvement in the deterioration of morality. But maybe the reason he’s been so successful in his mission is because we’ve been such failures in our commission. Maybe we need to examine ourselves a little closer and take some personal responsibility for the current state of affairs. What have we, as followers of Jesus Christ, done to confront evil in our world? In our nations? In our cities? In our neighborhoods? In our homes? In ourselves?
Have we taken any action at the risk of personal loss to confront evil in any of these areas or is that the very reason we’ve chosen not to do so? Have we been willing to soften the gospel message so as not to offend? Have we been willing to close our eyes to compromise so as not to disturb? Have we substituted conviction with complacency? Have we been willing to live a life of excuses? What is Jesus going to do with those? What is Jesus going to do with us? What is He going to do with me?
Sigh. Thank you, Charles Sheldon, for making me question so many things…you have disturbed my comfort zone.