Martes (Tuesday)

The roosters started crowing at 3 am. The women and children that live at House of Hope were up by 4.  This was Tuesday, the craziest day of the week.  On Tuesdays, around 300 women and teenage girls come from all over Managua to House of Hope.  Many of them are still active in prostitution.  After a time of singing and Bible study, it's production time.  Different tables have different tasks.  Some make greeting cards, others make gift tags, still others make bracelets, while others make earrings.  I learned that I'll be in charge of five tables.  Mine are all bead making tables.  The women cut up wrapping paper and roll it onto a toothpick and then put brillo (which is like clear nail-polish) on it to keep it from unraveling.  The result is a bead which will (on a following Tuesday) be put onto a bracelet or earring.  Some of the tables I observed made over 600 beads.  I'm in charge of making sure all 5 tables have the needed supplies.  I also am supposed to make sure they don't steal any of the supplies (apparently some of the women take supplies and make more beads at home and then bring them later to make the day's total much higher).  At the end of the morning, I will be counting all the beads made for the day.  Since the amount of money they make is mostly determined by how many beads are produced, the women watch the counting process very closely.  Sometimes they try to manipulate the process or argue the final count.  Should be fun.
After production is finished, the residents clean up the area and it's lunch time.  This particular Tuesday, there was a mission team at House of Hope, so after lunch we had another project.  The North American ladies were teaching the residents to sew school uniforms.  I was helping cut out the fabric.  The pattern was in Spanish, and the ladies helping me couldn't read. Oh, and the directions were wrong. And Home Ec wasn't my best subject in school anyway (not to mention it was about 8 years ago). It was awesome.
After sewing, the current intern took me to the grocery store.  It was a store designed for gringos, so it looked like any grocery store in the US. Except all the prices were in cordobas.  So some prices said things like 166.68. Which looks really crazy. But it's only about $7. So anyway, I was trying to find food items that I could cook on a hot plate. (The current intern was really nice and loaned me a hot plate, a pot and some dishes.)  I hope I get a lot better at cooking...
Speaking of things I need to get better at...driving a stick shift vehicle!  I haven't done that in about 5 years (and it wasn't my favorite then!). But in Nicaragua, that's the only option.  And for my job (or to get to the grocery store) I'll have to drive.  Nope, I can't read the road signs.  And yes, Nicaraguan drivers are crazy! And yes, the roads are absolutely terrible.  Should keep things interesting...

Mi primara noche en Nicaragua

Well I'm back in the States after my two week training period. I'll be returning to Managua after the holiday season.  Apparently people want to hear about my first couple of weeks in Nicaragua...so I guess it's a good thing that I kept a journal for the majority of those two weeks! ;)  But I don't assume that anyone (except maybe my mom) wants to read long posts. So, I'll keep em short. Since there's a lot of first impressions/experiences, I'll break them up in a couple of different blogs. Maybe that will keep you from dying of boredom while reading.
My first night:
I landed in Managua around 9:30 p.m. As I walked through Customs and Immigrations, I looked around to see where I was to go next.  I quickly realized that I was walking toward the exit of the small airport and knew that once I walked out, the armed guards weren't letting me back in. But...I didn't know who was meeting me. I glanced outside and saw a couple dozen men standing outside the exit. Many were holding signs with names on them. I saw an older man holding a sign with my name on it! So, I walked outside and shook his hand. He grabbed my suitcase and we walked off towards his car. It occurred to me that I didn't even know this guy's name (but I figured, only a couple of people would know my name in Nicaragua!).
As we drove through the streets of Nicaragua, Mike (who, as it turns out is my director's husband) told me a little bit about the city.  He told me about the women and children who live on the edge.  At any given moment, they can disappear and never reappear.  Their lives are so fragile.  Mike also pointed out the Auto Hotels, which are drive-in brothels.  Prostitution is legal in Nicaragua (though child prostitution is illegal) so there are billboards advertising the Auto Hotels.  There are five on the road before the turn for House of Hope.
When we turned off of the highway, Mike told me to unbuckle my seat belt.  I figured we were almost there. Nope. He just didn't want me to be cut by the seat belt because the road is so rough.  Rainy season has just ended and the roads haven't been graded yet.  The road was a flowing river during the rainy season. At times, the water level was up to four feet.  The erosion is pretty drastic. It took a long time to drive on the dirt roads to get to House of Hope, though it wasn't far.  Mike said he was just glad they could drive the road again.
When we arrived at HH, Mike was also glad to see that the lights were on. Electricity is pretty fickle.  Mallory, the current intern who is incredible, met me outside the gate.  She led me across the compound using a flashlight to point out the holes left by the rain.  We encounter the peliguay, which are half sheep, half goat.  They are rather stupid animals and spend their time wandering around, baaing and pooping.  On the plus side, they provide meat for the residents.
The duplex I'm staying in is made of concrete. It has a tin roof.  There's a sink outside.  Mallory checks to see if the water is working.  Like the electricity, the water is inconsistent.  I tossed my stuff down and went to sleep.  As I drifted off to sleep, I could hear the peliguay in the distance.  I could hear dogs barking, growling and fighting. I could see the bat that flew in my room.

Hasta Luego Missouri!

This post is for my friends in Branson, Rockway, Merriam Woods and Forsyth.  (and since you guys don't hablan espanol, "hasta luego" means until later)

This week, I had to say a lot of "see you later"s.  Not my favorite thing.  My days were packed as I said farewell to people that I love.  All of the farewells made me think back to the hellos - some all the way back to my first couple of months in Branson over 4 years ago.  

At that time, I had no desire to be in Branson.  I came to attend CofO, but I didn't even really want to go there, but I figured it was better than staying at home.  I was an angry, bitter, self-centered 18 year old good at finding all the faults in others.  I harbored grudges towards pretty much everyone - including God.  I didn't really like people.  Some of you knew me back then.  And somehow, we're still friends.  You'll never know how much that means to me.

Some of you met me later, after I'd begun to let God work on my hard heart.  See, God was, and is, faithful.  He didn't leave me alone.  Mercifully, He gave me friends and family who pushed me to confront my hurts that were buried underneath my anger.  They pushed me to get to know who God is.  I learned a lot about grace - for myself and then for others.  And as God shaped me to be more like Himself, it turns out, I actually love people! And I like hearing their stories and sharing life with them.  I want to join them in their struggles and help them.  None of this is of me.  It is purely from the work God is doing in my life.  

Over the last couple of years, I've had the joy of getting to know a lot of people in the Branson area.  I already miss you.  I miss the laughter, the stories, the stresses, the frustrations and the camaraderie. And I am forever thankful to God that I have gotten to know you.  While you may never know how, God has used you in my life. I never wanted to move to Branson.  But I wouldn't trade those years, those memories with you for anything. Looking back, I can see clearly how I have been blessed. 

So, it's not "goodbye." It's "see you later."  Hasta luego! =)