Hospital visits

For the last several days I've been preparing meals which Jonathan has been delivering to one of the preachers who is in the Hospital here in Jinotega. He and his family live in a town about an hour drive away, and food is not an automatic part of your care while staying in the hospital here. Today I went with Jonathan to deliver the food.
Even if I had photos, I couldn't really provide you with a sense of the place. First, I walked in knowing that this is one of the more respected hospitals available in this country--and it was a place that could still shock my "Nicaragua adjusted vision". It made me realize that I am not nearly as accustomed to the standard of living here as I might have thought.
Once again, the clearest description I can give is that here, it is still 100 a years ago.

Nurses in white stockings and those origami folded hats.
Patients sharing beds.
Dozens of beds in a room.
Patients being treated in hallways.
Crowds and crowds and crowds waiting with that stillness that comes from long waiting.
A smell of deep sickness.
Shocking wounds and disfigurements that will be stabilized but never "corrected".
Battered, ancient medical equipment.
Vendors selling water and food to patients and family members.
Funeral services available.

It was a bleak place.

Jonathan mentioned that he had been passing the children's orthopedic ward sometimes twice a day to visit our brother, and always noticed one girl who laid in the bed alone, with no family member evident. He decided to bring her a book. So he also brought some for the rest of the kids in the ward.
He handed half the books to me, and we headed in opposite directions to pass out the little books.
I smiled, and spread the books like cards for kids to choose from, and chatted briefly with family members, asking their permission to approach their child. When I finished distributing my stack, I turned to look for Jonathan--and he was still speaking with that first girl.

Speaking soft and gently, smiling comfortingly--nodding to a boy across the room to acknowledge that he'd be coming to see him too.

I passed out all my books and missed the whole point.

We have sat in devotional circles with hundreds of visiting workers this summer and said to them "The job you are here to do is important but not most important. The work is your ticket to meet someone, to show them love. Don't be afraid to put your shovel down to connect with someone."

I have made the speech every week--
But I passed out all my books and missed the whole point.
I cooked all those rice and beans and didn't sit with them while they ate them.
I washed sheets and brought medicine to people who were sick in the night, and didn't stay to see they fell asleep.

As I watched a toddler with a cast on his pelvis smilingly try to crawl towards Jonathan--I could see he was crawling toward the smile as much as the book.

And I passed out all my books and missed the whole point.

You don't have to be in a desperate, decrepit hospital in Nicaragua to find people who need attention.
Don't pass out all your books and miss the chance to smile comfortingly, or speak gently.

More Pictures

If you'd like to see more pictures of my favorite tree--check out the post "Our (half)Day Off".

Our (half) Day Off!

Seems like it's been a while since I posted here--things have been non-stop constant these last few weeks. With Mision staff members in the states, and other workers sick, it has been a hoppin' time.
HOWever, in the midst of all that craziness, Jonathan and I got to take our first real "day off" of the summer. We even had it at the same time!

We had some errands to run in the morning, and had to get the work "in house" started for the day--but by 11 or so we were off on our adventure.

We drove out to one of the "4-wheel drive" schools and wandered around the town of Chimboroso for a time. We listened to the howler monkeys in the trees and I finally got to see "the road to signal".

notice "the road to signal" includes nothing remotely like a road

It was great to get away from the megaphones in the market, and the bus station horns, and the crowds at the mission to hear quiet for just a bit. Chimboroso is an electricity free village--and the pace and peace there are something that must be experienced to understand. Living in a place like that is  a difficult way of life, no doubt about it--but it has some very rich rewards as well.

Later we went in to Matagalpa to some stores that handle imports and found items we have not seen before in Nicaragua, like pears and baking soda. It was very exciting.

We stopped for lunch at a terrific roadside spot with 3 walls and a line of people. It is called "the bean place on the way to Mataglapa" and everybody knows it. You get a big bowl of beans, an egg, fresh Cuajada cheese, cream, and a humungous hand made tortillia right off the fire. Simple, fresh, a LOT and  probably the best thing I've eaten since I've been here.  Even Jonathan couldn't eat it all, and for less than $2.

By far my favorite part of the day was the big tree.

That's the whole story. We saw a big tree.
Jonathan estimated the circumference of the base to be about 60 feet. I mean, a big tree.

peeking through a gap in the trunk

it's like a whole little world up there--now I know how they thought up tree houses.

We stopped to take pictures, and before long we had left the roadside, are walking through--well--a tropical jungle--to get closer to this giant tree. Spending the vast majority of my life inside elementary schools, I have seen posters and color pages and butcher paper replicas of this rain forest giant many many times. But as I stood there looking up at its massiveness, I was sort of star struck--I kept thinking: this can't be real. Yes, there were really hundreds of bromeliads clinging to every branch and crevice of the tree, even ferns and flowers growing up high in the branches. Constantly moving around the tree you could see birds and frogs, and lots of other crawly things. There was a whole platform above our heads vines and roots hanging down almost to the ground. We could hear the howler monkeys across the valley, and strange big flowers and weird bright fruits were everywhere you looked. Amazing.
On our (most of the) day off I realized how very alien this place we've come to is. And, I fell in love with a tree.

dirt? we don't need to grow in the dirt

this is just one lil corner of the tree

Dirty Feet

Yesterday I bought some shoes. They are ugly, and kinda too big--but I needed something that I could stick on quickly inside the mission once my tennis shoes have been retired for the day. I have had to accept that you can never be barefoot here. No matter how frequently we mop, the street muck is going to get tracked indoors on the bottoms of people's shoes--and the street muck here is just not healthy.

It has made me think about John 13 when Jesus washed some guys' feet. I've always paid the most attention to the part when Jesus explains that he was making an example of service for us. But I usually just read fast over verses 6-10 and don't think much about them. (hit the links to read for yourself).

Someone who has taken a bath is clean, but needs his feet washed. I feel it every day here. No matter how carefully I try to keep my feet clean, it's just not possible. Even when I step out of the shower and am putting on my shoes--my feet are already dirty.

I have been thinking about how this foot washing episode is also a model of how unable we are to "clean" ourselves. That's not something I typically dwell on. I don't think I pause often enough to reflect on how completely helpless I am to be holy. I can't do it. I just can't. But Jesus will wash that part of me that I just can't keep clean. He washes my feet to remind me that all my effort still can't keep the muck of the street out from between my toes--that's His job alone.

Jesus answered him, “ If I do not wash you, you have no part with Me.”
“Lord, then wash not only my feet, but also my hands and my head.”

Buy it by the bag

I have always been kinda mesmerized by product packaging--and there is plenty of interesting packaging here. One thing I notice is that anything can be purchased in a plastic sack.

bag of bleach

bag of cooked refried beans

bag of mustard

drinks "to go" in the red bucket--a baggy, a straw and a knot. the blue sacks on the left are water by the bag

bag of dish soap

bag of cream--milk and yogurt also available by the baggy

So--put my theory to the test! Comment below: What would like to see that might be available by the bag?

Laundry: the hard way

Laundry Nicaragua style: a how-to guide.

When the city shuts off the water for an indeterminate length of time--you get to learn some new skills. Like how to do laundry the hard way.

Like all domestic tasks here, the first step is boil some water. It doesn't matter if you're cooking, doing dishes, cleaning the bathroom....step one is always heat up some water. Thankfully, here at the mission we usually get to skip everyone else's step one, which is go get some water. Even this week with the tap water misbehaving--we didn't have to haul it very far. (although we did have to haul it up stairs)

Once the water is hot, you will need some soap. One thing I notice about the supermarket here compared to in the States, is that when they have an item--they have one option. Flour? yes. This one. Cereal? yes. This one. That is not true with soap, however. There are so many fascinating soaps!  Call me weird--but I am interested by all the different textures, shapes and types of soap they've got around here.  

lava lava, y nunca se acaba!

OK, now for those of you who didn't grow up in the 1800's the next step is to hold the dirty laundry in your hand, rub this soap on it, scrub it on this rub board sink, dunk it in the water reservoir and repeat until clean. Yes, seriously.

You do a whole bucket of soaping up the clothes, then you dump out that water--go get fresh water, and rinse all the clothes. 

Next, you'll need a partner for the wringing out stage. 

Thankfully-we were able to use the electric dryer once we got things washed, as drying on the clothes line in the rainy season is not very effective.  

I just don't have the words to describe what it feels like to lean over this concrete sink all day scrubbing towels and sheets. Mostly, because I only did it a little bit. These are the ladies who get the job done.

Xiomara, Angelita, & Estella

But, I can tell you this: I am grateful to do laundry in the washing machine. Imagine! Only a short time ago, I thought I had done work when I washed clothes in the machine. NOW I know about work. 

Bug Spray

This morning, as we gathered on the veranda for "English Bible Class" we passed around a can of mosquito repellent. Intern Margaret commented, as she hosed herself down with the sticky smelly stuff, "Aw--and I was just clean."

That's how it is here. We have showers in the mission--we have running water--you can get clean.
You just can't stay clean. You step out of the shower, and must cover up with slimy bug spray or sunscreen. You put on clean clothes, and step out into the rain, getting splashed by "mud" from the streets.

Isn't that true of us spiritually as well? God has made it so simple for us to get clean. We just seem to have a hard time staying clean. There are so many temptations to cover ourselves with the muck of this world.

I'm so grateful my God smells me shower fresh instead of the way I smell to myself....

 From Hebrews 10 

¹⁰ So we are made holy because Christ obeyed God and offered himself once for all.

¹⁴ By his one sacrifice he has forever set free from sin the people he brings to God.

¹⁸ When sins are forgiven, there is no more need to offer sacrifices.

Read for yourself here.