I have now been home just longer then three weeks. Well I would have to count to be sure. Honestly I am starting to loose track of that day when I landed in Chicago to see my mother and brother waiting for me. I suppose that is a good thing because it is showing that I am getting acustomed again. It has been weird these last couple weeks. Actually almost surreal because, while I am home with family and friends, it feels so strange. When someone asks me where I am staying, the first thought is the large brown door with its metal number 3988. Obviously I am not living there anymore, so just the change of location has been hard.
Along with the simple change of location, it has been an adjustment to change churches. During my six months in Argentina, I had the opportunity to join a life group, teach in study school, and invest and be invested in. It was an amazing experience to have a healthy church relationship. Before Argentina I struggled attending and getting involved in my local church, but the last couple weeks I have had a great chance to get to know the hispanic side of our church body and begin making relationships, which I hope will grow into strong friendships. It is a hard process, as Ashley House and I talked about Sunday how it will take dedication, perserverence, and faithfulness.
Those are two of the hardest transitions that I have had... thus far. The last two weeks I have had the chance of helping with soccer camp. They were long weeks, which required me to get up at six in the morning and be outside all day, but they were two good weeks to get me active and involved again. I feel surreal because I am not involved, when this should be my "life". I seem to sit on the sidelines and watch my life pass by, so the last two weeks getting involved and having busy hands helped me to settle into a routine and a bit of a schedule.
I miss my family and friends from Argentina so much! Especially jealous of some of the vídeos of my "little brother," Maxi. Lauren looked like she had some really fun times with him lately, as he continúes to grow and change. Well this was just a quick update on how the transition is going.
Chau.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Sleepless Sunday
Sunday 24 June, 2012,
I rose this morning to a brilliant day. After several weeks of bitter cold, the last couple days have been gorgeous with the sun shining touching your very soul, but still cool amongst the shadows. Norma and I had lunch together and we had a conversation, which I can now understand after six months, well at least understand the majority of what she says. I watched a little T.V. and pasted a afternoon really "tranquilo." I also took a short walk outside to stretch my legs, then went to church. We talked about the Armor of God and how we can win against that attacks of the enemy. Afterwards every in the church, whether I knew them well or just had met, wished me a good trip home and made sure to give me a strong hug. It was a humbling and kind of sad experience, although it still had not hit me that I would be leaving soon. With some close friends we went to a mall to grab dinner and ice cream. It was after all of this, while I waited for a bus at 1 a.m. that it began to hit me. I would be leaving in four days. I cried out varies times that I didn't want to go. Now I am laying in bed unable to sleep.
Without a doubt what keeps me from closing a eye right now is the fact that I am left with only four more days in Argentina. I am overwhelmed by how quickly the time has went. I am completely amazed at the relationships I have developed and how I have made a life for myself in another country. However, I really don't know what to even do right now as my time sets. While I am excited to see the sun rise from my bed with a brilliant yellow room glowing around me and rise to hear my parents and brother chatting over coffee below, there is a sadness that overwhelms and grips my heart and a fear that holds me captive.
It is obvious to me that when I return people will want to know about my experience. They will ask questions such as, "what was your favorite moment?" or "what did you learn most?" I will be able to tell stories of God's providence or describe the city, the river, or the mountains, but there will be something that remains to be told. If I can put it simply, this was not a vacation, where I went to take photos and see different places, but this was a life that I developed for myself. I came here alone barely able to communicate at times, and during the course of the following months I searched out friends, I learned the language, and I made myself comfortable. A large part of my soul, which many will never see, will always remain in Argentina. I grew. I changed. I overcame challenges. And I survived. I should include that it is only by the grace of God. I can do nothing with out him who is life.
Now I am going back to my "home," however I feel as if I am leaving my home. I am leaving the place where for six months I poured myself out to the family I lived with, my friends who I got to know, the church by whom I served, the university in which I studied. I almost can't even remember my life before my time here. I suspect that few will even see this and fewer still will be able to understand. Within a day my life completely changed and I had thrown myself in over my head and now I have come up swimming.
It is now 3:17 a.m. and still I am in my bed. Oh, what will I do when I leave? How my life will completely change again? There are so many questions that keep me wondering what my life may have in the next six months. In four days from now, once again, I will be over my head. It is then I will once again have to trust in him; in God who is good and sustains me during such trials.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Writing the Story
I have always thought it would be fun to be a writer, which I always thought was ironic since I am not naturally gifted in languages and writing has never been my strongest subject. It is like asking a writer to solve a trigonometry problem. Few, if any, would even be able to do it, but I am an engineer, who enjoys writing. However, I would tell tales of heroes slaying giants and of beautiful women be captivated by a young men. I would write of great depression being overcome by a brilliant light. I would have these idealistic characters with an ending that concludes with "happily ever after."
However the in the middle of the story there would be a depression that seems unsurmountable. The hero would have his back up against the wall. The beauty would be faced with a difficult choice. The bad guy would have all the guns and the power, leaving the lone hero abandoned and hopeless. There are several movies that come to mind. In the end of the Lord of the Rings, Sam is stuck in Mordor with Frodo, who can barely walk. The armies of men have been practically crushed and are cower in Minas Tirith. All seems hopeless and lost. Then suddenly Argon readies himself for battle and leads and out-numbered side to the battle field. Suddenly a glimmer of hope shines through the dark clouds, and well we know how the story ends. I love the Star Wars series, probably because I grew up with these movies. I was a Jedi with my old wholly brown blanket wrapped around me. However, I have cannot watch the third movie without watching "A New Hope," which was the first movie made. The third movie ends with Anakin Skywalker choosing evil, the death of his new bride, Padme, and it appears the Emperor has won, but we know how that story ends as well.
While the dark times may come, and little light shines through the dark clouds... While storms may surround the hero and waves crash over the bow of his boat... While he may be out-numbered on the battle field, or have seen a recent defeat... While he may look out over a barren wasteland, and feel that he cannot cross it... While temptation has struck and he longs to walk away from the cause... While these dark times exist in every story, we know the end. We know who wins in the end.
Maybe that is one of the requirements of a good story. A story that captivates us, must have a time, in which the hero is lost beyond hope, but somehow finds a way. Great story...
Alright lets now turn to our lives in the real world. We are human. Human means to have a depravity inside us, which begins with a thought, a whisper and grows until it consumes us the point of death. This darkness we cannot overcome, because we are inevitably weak. So here we are in the middle of our story as the we begin to open our eyes and realize the fight that surrounds us is absolutely pointless, and there is NO HOPE! We can't do anything. Our girlfriend leaves. Our marriage fails. Our family members die. Our house burns down. We lose our job. We lose everything in the stock market. We end up addicted to drugs, sex, and alcohol. We fall into depression. We feel empty. We are looking for something to save us, but we rely upon our own strength; only to fall deeper, farther into the overwhelming darkness.
Unexpectedly a strange Man enters our story. No one understands where He came from or where He is going, but He speaks truth. This Man is the promised Man, the Man who will finally save us from the darkness, but the Man dies. The hero who was the only one who could save us died, leaving us to die a similar death. However, the Man had a different plan. He was going to break the chains of death; while He would not conquer the Earth, He would conquer death, which brought freedom. However we have to give up our lives.
Our story is a little different the many of the movies we watch. It is not Argon's courage and strength that can save us. Nor is it Luke who will bring us Hope. What can man do on his own? ---DIE? I am realizing that in the darkest moments of life, when I find myself alone, falling, screaming and clawing at the dark walls of my cage will not help me. I cannot will the battle on my own, but it is through Christ alone I find victory. I may suffer, I may fall, I may lose, but in the end I know who wins...
However the in the middle of the story there would be a depression that seems unsurmountable. The hero would have his back up against the wall. The beauty would be faced with a difficult choice. The bad guy would have all the guns and the power, leaving the lone hero abandoned and hopeless. There are several movies that come to mind. In the end of the Lord of the Rings, Sam is stuck in Mordor with Frodo, who can barely walk. The armies of men have been practically crushed and are cower in Minas Tirith. All seems hopeless and lost. Then suddenly Argon readies himself for battle and leads and out-numbered side to the battle field. Suddenly a glimmer of hope shines through the dark clouds, and well we know how the story ends. I love the Star Wars series, probably because I grew up with these movies. I was a Jedi with my old wholly brown blanket wrapped around me. However, I have cannot watch the third movie without watching "A New Hope," which was the first movie made. The third movie ends with Anakin Skywalker choosing evil, the death of his new bride, Padme, and it appears the Emperor has won, but we know how that story ends as well.
While the dark times may come, and little light shines through the dark clouds... While storms may surround the hero and waves crash over the bow of his boat... While he may be out-numbered on the battle field, or have seen a recent defeat... While he may look out over a barren wasteland, and feel that he cannot cross it... While temptation has struck and he longs to walk away from the cause... While these dark times exist in every story, we know the end. We know who wins in the end.
Maybe that is one of the requirements of a good story. A story that captivates us, must have a time, in which the hero is lost beyond hope, but somehow finds a way. Great story...
Alright lets now turn to our lives in the real world. We are human. Human means to have a depravity inside us, which begins with a thought, a whisper and grows until it consumes us the point of death. This darkness we cannot overcome, because we are inevitably weak. So here we are in the middle of our story as the we begin to open our eyes and realize the fight that surrounds us is absolutely pointless, and there is NO HOPE! We can't do anything. Our girlfriend leaves. Our marriage fails. Our family members die. Our house burns down. We lose our job. We lose everything in the stock market. We end up addicted to drugs, sex, and alcohol. We fall into depression. We feel empty. We are looking for something to save us, but we rely upon our own strength; only to fall deeper, farther into the overwhelming darkness.
Unexpectedly a strange Man enters our story. No one understands where He came from or where He is going, but He speaks truth. This Man is the promised Man, the Man who will finally save us from the darkness, but the Man dies. The hero who was the only one who could save us died, leaving us to die a similar death. However, the Man had a different plan. He was going to break the chains of death; while He would not conquer the Earth, He would conquer death, which brought freedom. However we have to give up our lives.
Our story is a little different the many of the movies we watch. It is not Argon's courage and strength that can save us. Nor is it Luke who will bring us Hope. What can man do on his own? ---DIE? I am realizing that in the darkest moments of life, when I find myself alone, falling, screaming and clawing at the dark walls of my cage will not help me. I cannot will the battle on my own, but it is through Christ alone I find victory. I may suffer, I may fall, I may lose, but in the end I know who wins...
Among the Waves
Over the weekend we had to chance to visit Uruguay. It was a chance to go to another country and spend time together, as our time closes out here in Argentina. Waking up early with little sleep, two hours to be frank, it was simply a night I could not sleep, we set out from my house heading towards the port. Entering there was a lobby with a tall ceiling, crowned with a chandelier, which happened to remind me of the Titanic movie. Yea, I know... don't laugh. As we headed towards our seats it appeared less like the Titanic and more like an airplane, with chairs neatly situated into rows. Finding a spot close to the window we made ourselves comfortable for the hour journey across the river to the port town of Colonia.
Arriving in the port we set out into the town. Realizing that the rain had begun and would not stop the entire day, we bundled ourselves up and began a rainy walk to the old neighborhood. Walking up a street the old stone wall came into view, which stood guarding the town with its might wood bridge crossing the moat. Colonia was a small port down, which stood guard at the entrance of the river.
We took time to cross the wooden draw bridge, which was down opening the old town. We climbed the wall and stood next to the might cannon, which looked out over where we had just walked. It was such a great time. As we continued to walk through the old town, we saw the old construction and the cobble stone streets, where pirates, colonists, and spanish soldiers used to be. We took some time to eat and buy some few gifts, but the cold began to set in upon us, so we took some time to drink some coffee. I ate ice cream. After a couple rounds of Euchre, I headed back out into the cold and the setting of what sun we could see. Along with a few others we found remains of an old wall, which faced the sea. With the wind whipping and the waves crashing we climbed the wall. It was there we stood for at least a half hour, although our faces were cold and we could not feel our hands we stood upon the wall.
It was upon the wall that you could feel such power around you. Nature raised it self up and roared at us, but we stood defiant in the face of the sea. The wind attacked us trying to dethrone us from the wall, while the waves crashed taunting us. Power seemed to swell around us as we looked over the grey sky. Some stood silent in the face of such power, but I felt the need to scream out for more. Feeling as if a battle was coming I screamed out calling it upon us, ready for what was in front of me. I wanted to see the power of God rise up from the sea.
If the day had been a little warm I would of been found on the other side of the wall, among the large flat rocks, upon which the waves beat. I would be shouting as the waves crashed upon the rocks to kick up mist. Sadly in the cold rain, I remained upon the wall.
As we walked away, we could not help at marvel at the power of God, who controls such things. I believe we would of been content to remain there in front of the power sea, mighty wind, and cold rain. We were standing simply in front of nature beckoning its power upon us, asking for it to give us all it had.
As we walked way with the wind to our backs, we found ourselves on the opposite side of the peninsula, which faced the river. A wooden board walk penetrated the river, providing us an opportunity to enter the gran river. The waves stood still and the wind hummed, as the lampposts lit the misty night. Walking out to the end, we waited. Standing in silence for a moment, while thirty sailboats rocked as cradles in the calm river. A peace came over us. There was no screaming or beckoning, only quiet words shared, as the night seemed to bring warmth to our souls.
Remaining for a moment and being joined by our crazy comrades, the night seemed to lose its stillness, but the boats could still be seen rocking among the small waves and the wind could still be felt gently moving out hair. Although we ourselves did not match the occasion. Finally we made our way back to the port, played a few more rounds of cards, and headed back across the river. Actually the boat first entered the sea, which was so fierce and powerful a short time before, followed by traveling up the calm river to Buenos Aires.
We had travel by the waves, been mocked by them, and rested in their stillness. It was truly a remarkable day among the waves.
Arriving in the port we set out into the town. Realizing that the rain had begun and would not stop the entire day, we bundled ourselves up and began a rainy walk to the old neighborhood. Walking up a street the old stone wall came into view, which stood guarding the town with its might wood bridge crossing the moat. Colonia was a small port down, which stood guard at the entrance of the river. We took time to cross the wooden draw bridge, which was down opening the old town. We climbed the wall and stood next to the might cannon, which looked out over where we had just walked. It was such a great time. As we continued to walk through the old town, we saw the old construction and the cobble stone streets, where pirates, colonists, and spanish soldiers used to be. We took some time to eat and buy some few gifts, but the cold began to set in upon us, so we took some time to drink some coffee. I ate ice cream. After a couple rounds of Euchre, I headed back out into the cold and the setting of what sun we could see. Along with a few others we found remains of an old wall, which faced the sea. With the wind whipping and the waves crashing we climbed the wall. It was there we stood for at least a half hour, although our faces were cold and we could not feel our hands we stood upon the wall.
It was upon the wall that you could feel such power around you. Nature raised it self up and roared at us, but we stood defiant in the face of the sea. The wind attacked us trying to dethrone us from the wall, while the waves crashed taunting us. Power seemed to swell around us as we looked over the grey sky. Some stood silent in the face of such power, but I felt the need to scream out for more. Feeling as if a battle was coming I screamed out calling it upon us, ready for what was in front of me. I wanted to see the power of God rise up from the sea.
If the day had been a little warm I would of been found on the other side of the wall, among the large flat rocks, upon which the waves beat. I would be shouting as the waves crashed upon the rocks to kick up mist. Sadly in the cold rain, I remained upon the wall. As we walked away, we could not help at marvel at the power of God, who controls such things. I believe we would of been content to remain there in front of the power sea, mighty wind, and cold rain. We were standing simply in front of nature beckoning its power upon us, asking for it to give us all it had.
As we walked way with the wind to our backs, we found ourselves on the opposite side of the peninsula, which faced the river. A wooden board walk penetrated the river, providing us an opportunity to enter the gran river. The waves stood still and the wind hummed, as the lampposts lit the misty night. Walking out to the end, we waited. Standing in silence for a moment, while thirty sailboats rocked as cradles in the calm river. A peace came over us. There was no screaming or beckoning, only quiet words shared, as the night seemed to bring warmth to our souls.
Remaining for a moment and being joined by our crazy comrades, the night seemed to lose its stillness, but the boats could still be seen rocking among the small waves and the wind could still be felt gently moving out hair. Although we ourselves did not match the occasion. Finally we made our way back to the port, played a few more rounds of cards, and headed back across the river. Actually the boat first entered the sea, which was so fierce and powerful a short time before, followed by traveling up the calm river to Buenos Aires. We had travel by the waves, been mocked by them, and rested in their stillness. It was truly a remarkable day among the waves.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Tumbling Thoughts
It has been awhile since I have written anything. I think that is partly because I don't know what to write. Life has not changed in Argentina, although I feel like I am changing. I have only a few weeks left now. My mom has began to ask what I want to eat when I get back. I have to say I love her. Every day she shows me her love by insuring I am provided for. My time has been consumed by homework. This is the time of major papers, presentations, and exams, which as a college student they are not my friends, especially when I am being asked to do them in Spanish. I guess that is the life you ask for when you go to a Spanish speaking country, live with a Spanish speaking family, and take classes in Spanish. The homework has left little time for much else.
I have enjoyed the injection of new life here. We received five new students a couple weeks back. They have been great to get to knew, pass time talking, and really have been an encouragement and a blessing. I am thankful they will have the same opportunity that was granted to me. It has been such a good time, filled with great memories, great friends, and great lessons. I wonder what people will say when they see me. My hair is shorter, probably for the best, but besides that what has changed. I refuse to believe that after six months in a foreign culture, I have not changed. I am looking forward to seeing how God answers that question.
Speaking of God answering questions... No means no... A lesson that I still cannot fully grasp. No. When he says, "no," I want to throw a fit. Kind of like my three year old brother here in Argentina. He throws some of the best fits. I feel like it should be shown in the summer Olympics as a competitive sport, but what do I know. These fits of a twenty-one year old consist of many different things, some of which include trying to spite God, which really is not only foolish, but completely absurd. God wants what is best for us and everything He does is to transform us into someone more Godly, so why are we throwing a fit? We still are learning the lessons of a child that our way is not always the right way.
I am racking my mind for a story to tell... something interesting that has happened lately in Argentina. However, it is really difficult to think of something. I mean my super exciting trips to the supermarket, or the movies we have gone to see, or my excursions to someones house really do feel worthy of being told. There was a time it felt like every three of four days I was in a movie theater. Oh... which lead me to a point... there are movie theaters here, where you can buy ice to eat while watching the movie! There is nothing better then that at least for me.
Sorry for the random babbling, but I wanted to share at least a little of what is tumbling around inside my head.
I have enjoyed the injection of new life here. We received five new students a couple weeks back. They have been great to get to knew, pass time talking, and really have been an encouragement and a blessing. I am thankful they will have the same opportunity that was granted to me. It has been such a good time, filled with great memories, great friends, and great lessons. I wonder what people will say when they see me. My hair is shorter, probably for the best, but besides that what has changed. I refuse to believe that after six months in a foreign culture, I have not changed. I am looking forward to seeing how God answers that question.
Speaking of God answering questions... No means no... A lesson that I still cannot fully grasp. No. When he says, "no," I want to throw a fit. Kind of like my three year old brother here in Argentina. He throws some of the best fits. I feel like it should be shown in the summer Olympics as a competitive sport, but what do I know. These fits of a twenty-one year old consist of many different things, some of which include trying to spite God, which really is not only foolish, but completely absurd. God wants what is best for us and everything He does is to transform us into someone more Godly, so why are we throwing a fit? We still are learning the lessons of a child that our way is not always the right way.
I am racking my mind for a story to tell... something interesting that has happened lately in Argentina. However, it is really difficult to think of something. I mean my super exciting trips to the supermarket, or the movies we have gone to see, or my excursions to someones house really do feel worthy of being told. There was a time it felt like every three of four days I was in a movie theater. Oh... which lead me to a point... there are movie theaters here, where you can buy ice to eat while watching the movie! There is nothing better then that at least for me.
Sorry for the random babbling, but I wanted to share at least a little of what is tumbling around inside my head.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
ADORE...
If you have ever had an experience that has seemed to take complete control of your life. An experience that overshadows everything that you do. Well lately the futbol that I play, the places I go, the people I meet, have not mattered. I shouldn't say they don't matter, but they don't compare to the word adorar...
As I wrote the blog about Easter, and my mind jumped back and forth between Castellano and English, (Yes, it does do that now,) I realized something. The word for worship in Spanish is adorar. It may be obvious where I am going with this, but I am going to go ahead and continue. Adorar... Adore...
Sometimes the word worship can lose its meaning. Many times it gets watered down with chores, or bolstered with a show. It has been described in a manner that made it felt like something that can be touched. Worship is not some mystical source or power that exists in some world beyond. It exists everyday and in every action that we take. In the simple prayers as we walk down a busy street and in the quiet nights that we spend on our knees. Do we adore God everyday? Adore...
A child of three years old can learn phrase and lines of a movie, know the names of the characters, and begin to develop a relationship with them. He sits and plays with the figures. He sleeps with these figures, and when he wakes he asks where they are. He adores them. As a child is captivated, moved, and thrilled by a movie. Do we adore God?
Music starts to play, and a bride walks down the asile. She is wearing a simple white dress with a veil covering her still innocent face. The crowd rise to their feet and strain their necks to catch a glimpse of the her beauty and elegance. She does not have fancy jewerly. Nothing hangs below her ears. There is not a large stone upon her hand, nor is there anything that is draped around her neck. No one notices these small details because she shines. Radiance echos from her mere presense. She is adored. Do we adore God?
Life sends a whole mess of distractions, worries, and even pleasures. All of these things, while are not bad, take our eyes off God. Are we the child that when we wakes calls out, “Buuuuzzz!”? Each day as we rise out of bed our first concern is finding God. Do we treat God as a bride, something that is precious, which does not need to be adorened by fancy jewerly to be seen as valuable? Every time we see God we pause stand silent, and watch Him work.
I write this on the heels of a ugly week. A week that I was distracted, worried, stressed, frustrated, and refused to seek God. I am spending time to right this more to reflect upon what I am learning, then to challenge anyone reading this. Sadly I don’t live this way. I think of Grandma Nuñez, which some may know. I heard a story about her once that to this day I can’t leave forget. I guess it is what I want to be. When she was asked, how her day was going, she responded, “Fantastic, today the Lord may come back!” For me that is profound. I think of all the little things that effect my attitude and mentality. Do we adore God? Do I adore God?
I wrote the latter back around Easter, but I have found the last several days worship, adoration have been on my heart. I have found myself on my knees and on my face more frequently. I have found myself shooting the lyrics of "My Jesus" by Todd Agnew. "I wanna be like my Jesus!" I have concluded that this song expresses my hopes, desires, and dreams. I have want to be like Jesus. I want to fall on my face and cry out, "Woe to me!" I want to know him intimately and walk beside him upon a journey that takes me through this life. This journey hurts, but Christ is my strength. Scripture is my power. The spirit is with me.
I wrote the latter back around Easter, but I have found the last several days worship, adoration have been on my heart. I have found myself on my knees and on my face more frequently. I have found myself shooting the lyrics of "My Jesus" by Todd Agnew. "I wanna be like my Jesus!" I have concluded that this song expresses my hopes, desires, and dreams. I have want to be like Jesus. I want to fall on my face and cry out, "Woe to me!" I want to know him intimately and walk beside him upon a journey that takes me through this life. This journey hurts, but Christ is my strength. Scripture is my power. The spirit is with me.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Argentina Policía and Monotony
Life has a sense of monotony right now. Days that were once filled with adventure, now seem plain. Where there was once fear, rests normality. Walking down the streets, taking the collectivo to the university, and or passing time with friends no longer have the suspense that once existed. I am acustomed to the culture, to the lifestyle, and to the city. It is a strange thought looking back in my journal, when every event, every place, every person had a strangeness to them. There was something that excited my soul and that made me feel as if I was walking upon the edge of life. Life is good in Argentina.
If you have regularly followed my blog, you would have seen a gradual change in themes. I have talked less and less about the things I am doing in Argentina, and more about the things I am learning. I first realized that something was changing, when I sat in front of a blank screen trying to remember what I did during the week. All I could think of were the things that have been changing in my life. I believe this changed has dervired from the fact that life here has become normal. I am still learning the language and the culture, but even that has been normalized. The other day I was watching a movie, and the beginning began with a Star Wars like opening. The background of the film was written in English, but the narrator spoke in Spanish. I was listening in Spanish, reading in English and did not recognize the difference in language until after the fact. For me that was a little bit of encouragement that I was oblivious to the fact that Spanish was even present.
I am able to tell little facts, such as I played a bit of soccer Wednesday, I went out Thursday night with a French student and the grigos, or Friday when I went to the house of Pablo (the boyfriend of Krystal, who is a Grace student that now lives here) and had pizza and a movie. However, those things don’t have the buzz they once did.
With that being said, I did take a collectivo home at five in the morning friday night, which was quite an interesting experience with a loud drunk woman behind me, who I was sure, was going to puke. I was thankful, when she only spit on the floor. Yea, that is how bad it was. When she finally got off the bus, I looked at Tyler, who was sitting next to me, and we both shook our heads. Last night as we drove home from getting something to eat with Lucas, suddenly we saw blue flashing lights and heard a voice over the a loud speaker. Looking at each other, we asked, “What did he say?” Lucas shut off the music and the voice spoke again. Still not understanding the voice, but Lucas pulled over. Being asked where we were going and for all of our ID’s the police checked the car over. Then let us go without explaining anything.
I love the Argentine police!
Four Months and Four Things I Miss
Family
I miss my family. Such and obvious and cliche thing to say, but I can’t help but include it in my list. I miss my mommy. I miss picking on her, when she is trying to be productive. I miss coming home and finding her watching TV, which the first thing I would do is cuddle up next to her for a moment. I miss having to scold her when she does things that I was going to do or that she should make me do. I love my mommy. I miss my father. I miss those nights we would sit and discuss soccer until finally he would stop us because my mom would be getting frustrated. I miss his strong embrace, that he gives me every few days. I miss seeing him stand over a grill and cook. I miss seeing is quiet strength that leads and guides our family ever steady and ever true. I miss my brother. He is crazy, which is something I love about him. I miss his ingenuinity and the fact that he is always at the forfront of technology and science. I miss the the times when we fight and argue, and our dad gets worked up and howlers at us, while we just laugh. I miss him tremendously, and I will give him a huge hug maybe even a kiss, despite the fact he normally does not appreciate my touchiness. I miss my family sitting in front of the fire, sharing a meal, or watching a soccer game. I love my family, and while I have had my doubts if I was adopted or not, I would not change families for anything.
Grace
Most of the Grace students are excited to leave school and go home for the summer or travel, but I am sitting here missing Grace. I already know that I am insane, but seriously. After you have been away for almost five months counting Christmas break you begin to miss the school, when not so much the buildings, but the people. I miss professors, which I would randomly drop in to see how they are doing and talk about education. I miss my team, whom I play with every week. We have sweated, bled, and cried together. They are like brothers to me. I miss certain relationships. Friendships with classmates that I have developed from spending hours studying, working on projects, or simplying chilling. There are friends that I have had for years that go to Grace, some of the best friends I could ever have. I miss having to go to chapel and being filled multiple times a week with the truth. I miss the feeling of sitting in a classroom and being surrounded with Godly men and women who are persuing Christ. Yes, I would say I miss Grace.
Church
Community Grace, my church, is a place that I have not realized until leaving how much I missed it. To be completely honest, I took my church for grantit before I left. However, as I have spent time in the chruch body here in Argentina it has encouraged me to return and participate even more in Community Grace. There are so many people that I hardly know in the church that are Godly men and women. I want to know them better, I want to learn from them, I want to grow with them. I realized the value of a church body. I am consistently encouraged here by the Argentine church, and even by Community Grace. I can truely say that I miss my church and can’t wait to return. I am not talking about the gym or the old sancutary, but the body of believers that I have been apart from.
Ceramics
Of late I have missed ceramics. I have always loved art, but my greatest passion is ceramics. I love sitting at the wheel and forming a small vase. I love the feel as the clay spins and centering it. The clay rests in harmony with the wheel. There is something almost magical at the moment it finally centers. After the work is finished, and the glaze has been applied. There is an excitement as the kiln is opened and the it is seen in its finished form. The colors have come to live and it shine from the melted silicon. I have always enjoyed this process, but this year, there is a ceramics club at Grace, which I have missed out on, which only adds to my longing to sit a a wheel. I have recently began drawling different designs and ideas. I have designed a series of vases, teapots, and mugs. I am beginning to fill a small leather notebook with the ideas, which I hope to make. I miss this art form, which allows me to relax, vent, and be myself.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Where Did the Time Go?
So where did Easter go? I was thinking today that I haven't written in a while, so I looked that the last time. It was eleven days ago. I wrote about some of my thoughts and experiences during Easter. Eleven days have past, and I have done little out of the normal. I have played a little soccer here and there. I have went to my classes. I have completed my homework, which last week was a hectic week. I had a lot of homework to accomplish. There were several essay and projects due on the same days, so I was a little stressed, but lucky the Argentina culture played in my advantage. That is to say, due dates all less strict. This saturday we went out to a café to watch the River game, and then later we went to a movie, well I elected to go home, since I was feeling sick. I came down with the stomach flu. I missed church Sunday, but I got to chat with my wonderful parents instead. I am still recovering, but man do I feel better.
I forgot to say that I was illegal one day. Friday before my temporary visa expired I went to immigration, but it was closed. They told me that I could come back monday in the morning, so I did. When I arrived I talked with someone, went to wait in line, waited an hour and half, only to get told that I was in the wrong line. So I went to where I belonged and the process took twenty minutes. I would of been done in twenty minutes, but instead the process took almost two hours. However, I am not illegal now, which I suppose is the plus side. Other then that one excursion. I didn't really do anything those eleven days since Easter.
However, some of the most important things I have been doing have not involved places I have gone, nor people I have met, but literally who I am. Two Sundays ago, the question "Who am I?" resonated in my mind. The message did not have this theme, nor did any of the songs, but I found not get the question out of my mind. As I began to ponder about it, I came to some difficult conclusions.
While I was able to say the truth about my identity in Christ, I did not live day to day with such an identity. I don't know if this makes sense to anyone. I am a son, child, friend. I am loved, perfect, holy, and cherished. I am wanted, desired, fought for, and died for. However day to day I lived by the opposite. I am a failure, I am an error, I am unwanted, unloved, and undesired. I have no value. How did such lies become the roots and foundation of my identity. Over the past several days I have found myself confronting the very essences of who I am. I am learning of the strength I have in Christ, the power of prayer, and how to live on the edge of the Spirit. I have surrendered things and in the same moment vowed to fight and uplift them. I have removed things from my life only to replace them with the truth. I am righting wrongs and repenting.
I am a child of God. I am HOLY. I am HIS.
So as I sit in a library, I hear the tapping of keyboards, a man in the corner that reads aloud every day, and the quiet rumblings of the streets outside. I have written the last letter that may never be sent, and the pain no longer bears so heavy. Instead the joy of honoring God has begun to uplift my spirit. I have sat and ponder where my time in Argentina has went. I have realized that for each one us here, we have all had different experiences. In many cases we went to the same places, met the same people, but the story that God is writing in each one of our lives is uniquely different. The small moments of his province, where we can see his face and his hands working are different for each one.
I know this blog was meant to be about what I am doing in Argentina, but I cannot help but write, what He is doing in Argentina as well. I will say we do have plans to come. A possible adventure in Uruguay. Also there might be an Yguazu trip coming as well. There is only nine weeks left in this show, which I can't believe, so stay tuned for the next episode!
I forgot to say that I was illegal one day. Friday before my temporary visa expired I went to immigration, but it was closed. They told me that I could come back monday in the morning, so I did. When I arrived I talked with someone, went to wait in line, waited an hour and half, only to get told that I was in the wrong line. So I went to where I belonged and the process took twenty minutes. I would of been done in twenty minutes, but instead the process took almost two hours. However, I am not illegal now, which I suppose is the plus side. Other then that one excursion. I didn't really do anything those eleven days since Easter.
However, some of the most important things I have been doing have not involved places I have gone, nor people I have met, but literally who I am. Two Sundays ago, the question "Who am I?" resonated in my mind. The message did not have this theme, nor did any of the songs, but I found not get the question out of my mind. As I began to ponder about it, I came to some difficult conclusions.
While I was able to say the truth about my identity in Christ, I did not live day to day with such an identity. I don't know if this makes sense to anyone. I am a son, child, friend. I am loved, perfect, holy, and cherished. I am wanted, desired, fought for, and died for. However day to day I lived by the opposite. I am a failure, I am an error, I am unwanted, unloved, and undesired. I have no value. How did such lies become the roots and foundation of my identity. Over the past several days I have found myself confronting the very essences of who I am. I am learning of the strength I have in Christ, the power of prayer, and how to live on the edge of the Spirit. I have surrendered things and in the same moment vowed to fight and uplift them. I have removed things from my life only to replace them with the truth. I am righting wrongs and repenting.
I am a child of God. I am HOLY. I am HIS.
So as I sit in a library, I hear the tapping of keyboards, a man in the corner that reads aloud every day, and the quiet rumblings of the streets outside. I have written the last letter that may never be sent, and the pain no longer bears so heavy. Instead the joy of honoring God has begun to uplift my spirit. I have sat and ponder where my time in Argentina has went. I have realized that for each one us here, we have all had different experiences. In many cases we went to the same places, met the same people, but the story that God is writing in each one of our lives is uniquely different. The small moments of his province, where we can see his face and his hands working are different for each one.
I know this blog was meant to be about what I am doing in Argentina, but I cannot help but write, what He is doing in Argentina as well. I will say we do have plans to come. A possible adventure in Uruguay. Also there might be an Yguazu trip coming as well. There is only nine weeks left in this show, which I can't believe, so stay tuned for the next episode!
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Easter thoughts
Thougths before Easter...
After playing soccer in the park I went home, rested a little, and then had Grupo de Vida. Felipe, a good friend and a faithful brother, made dinner for us. We did not sure eat together, but we shared life. Laughing, joking, and enjoying one another. Afterwards we took turns sharing things that we are thankful for, things that we adore about God. I sat SILENT. I sat thinking about all my sin and all my failures. I sat thinking about my frustrations with relationships and how I all to often maintain attitudes, which may be best described as ugly. In those moments that I sat silents, as others shared about people coming to Christ, about how their family problems draw them closer to God, and about how God continues to provide for each one of them, an image came to my mind. I remembered the time I came crying to my brother asking if I could wash his feet. I remembered crying with my parents over my sins and failures, when light was shred upon them. I remembered the cross, which my Lord DIED upon.
I am an ugly boy. I refuse to use the word man, because I do not see myself as a man. I see myself as a wandering boy, confused and lost. He does not know how to handle the emotions he feels, nor does he understand how to fight the battles in front of him. So he sits scared. He sits idol and scared in a corner hoping someone will see him. Hoping someone will rescue him.
The lesson that God continues to try and teach me, but my hard head does not seem to want to learn it, is the fact that I have great power. I have the power to say no to sin, because I have died to it. I have the power to transform lives, because God uses me daily. I have the power to live, and live life to the fullest! All too often I neglect the power that exists within me. The Spirit, that raised Christ from the dead, lives in ME! I can live without longing for something I do not have, because I have EVERYTHING I need for this life and the next. A lesson I still have not yet fully learned. I have not learned to tap into the power that already exists in me on a daily basis.
I once believed that as humans it is impossible to live a holy life here on this Earth. My opinion has begun to change. I believe that we can be holy on this Earth. (And, yes. I am taking aobut before the return of Christ.) “Be HOLY as I AM HOLY!” We are commanded to be holy. Living daily and completely in the power of the Spirit we can find holiness. It is a grand challenge, but it is my challenge. As a believer it is my goal!
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
What I have been up to.
So I have past the half way point of my trip. Still alive! It is strange thinking I am half way done, when this trip has felt so long. It seems that every day drags on. Not that I haven't had fun or haven't enjoyed myself, actually the contrary is true. I have probably enjoyed myself too much and had too much fun. I am kind of thankful that the trip has seemed slow. It has given me a good opportunity to relax, process, and learn. Hang in there mommy... I will be home before you know it!
So last monday was a vacation day, so I didn't have class. I took the day to rest and ended up going to a park to play fútbol. Actually I seem right now to have forgotten what I did Monday. Not sure if I was even alive that day. It may come back to me... Okay I had to draw a diagram of what I did for the week, but I figured it out. I didn't go to a park Monday. I went out with the Merinos (Brittney's family), Andrés, Tyler, and his family. We toured the city a little bit. Ate lunch, and afterwards I went to soccer practice. Which is a story in itself. The subway was not working, so I walked twenty-five minutes to the train station. My twenty-five minute trip from down town ended up taking fifty minutes, but I arrived although I was a little late.
I went to classes Tuesday. The classes were kind of boring, but afterwards I went to the house of Fernando. He had his birthday and we were invited to celebrate with him. He ate a delicious asado, which is like a cow-roast. Literally they cook about every part of the cow and then eat it. I enjoyed most almost all of it haha. I skipped my classes Wednesday, and then thursday morning we set off for a small town outside the city (San Pedro). We went camping for the night and hung out. Just enjoying each other's company, walking through the small city, eating, and drinking mate. It was a good time, and then we returned home the following day. Saturday I went to the park to knock the ball around and then once again I helped in the children's sunday school class. And back to school and soccer practice as normal this week.
Good times here in Argentina... there is more I am able to write, but for now I will leave it there.
Chau
So last monday was a vacation day, so I didn't have class. I took the day to rest and ended up going to a park to play fútbol. Actually I seem right now to have forgotten what I did Monday. Not sure if I was even alive that day. It may come back to me... Okay I had to draw a diagram of what I did for the week, but I figured it out. I didn't go to a park Monday. I went out with the Merinos (Brittney's family), Andrés, Tyler, and his family. We toured the city a little bit. Ate lunch, and afterwards I went to soccer practice. Which is a story in itself. The subway was not working, so I walked twenty-five minutes to the train station. My twenty-five minute trip from down town ended up taking fifty minutes, but I arrived although I was a little late.
I went to classes Tuesday. The classes were kind of boring, but afterwards I went to the house of Fernando. He had his birthday and we were invited to celebrate with him. He ate a delicious asado, which is like a cow-roast. Literally they cook about every part of the cow and then eat it. I enjoyed most almost all of it haha. I skipped my classes Wednesday, and then thursday morning we set off for a small town outside the city (San Pedro). We went camping for the night and hung out. Just enjoying each other's company, walking through the small city, eating, and drinking mate. It was a good time, and then we returned home the following day. Saturday I went to the park to knock the ball around and then once again I helped in the children's sunday school class. And back to school and soccer practice as normal this week.
Good times here in Argentina... there is more I am able to write, but for now I will leave it there.
Chau
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Entry #17
Thoughts leisurely stroll through my head as I sit in one of the small grey chairs that were placed neatly in rows waiting the entrance of the bride and groom. A simple melody floats from a piano, which is accompanied by a sweet girl in a elegant purple dress. Casually she elects each note, and strikes the keys with precision. As if I was constructing those sweet tones out of air, my hands mimic the touch of each key. Restlessness can be felt in the air as the crowd begins to grow and seats are filled. There is not a pause in the melody, which continues to stroll amongst the people. From the back of the crowd, a man emerges, who is dressed in a formal black jacket and pants, which from the creases, I would suggest, have recently been pressed. He walks to the small stage and greets the crowd through the microphone, urging the crowd to finally be seated. Moments later with the crowd seated the bride and groom enter, walking slowly to the same soft melody. With what strength he has, he helps his bride to the stage. She has grown frail over the years. The years they have spent working, raising their family, and glorifying God have not always been easy, and in their late years their bodies have begun to feel the wear. This is not the first time they have been wed. This is not the last time they will be wed. Each day for fifty years, they have elected to wed each other. Each day, while there may not have been a grand ceremony, they were bride and groom choosing to marry.
The golden wedding, which I attended last night was magnificent. The story of how they were married, found Christ, and raised a marvelous family was wonderful. The video of old photos with the interruptions from the bride and groom were both funny and lovely. I fell in love with with the violin and piano gracefully playing. I could not help, but thing fifty years is a long time. My heart began to stir as I thought of same opportunity and challenge, that one day, God willing, I will have.
After cleaning up and leaving the church at one in the morning, Brittney, Andres, Krystal, Pablo, and Melody, and I went back to my house to play cards. We played cards and games till five in the morning. We decided to play Euchre and then a trivia game, which I am no unable to remember its name. I happened to realized I cannot stand how the U.S. uses the U.S. Standard System. Why on Earth do we have our own system? I don't understand. I am on this rant because the game had trivia questions about distances and area and depth, which obviously I failed at because I don't understand the systems.
Then decided to go to Mc Donalds, but we did not eventually go to Mc Donalds. Well we actually were standing in the drive-thru, but did not order anything. This is actually kind of an interesting story. We went to a Mc Donalds, that we thought was a 24 hours Mc Donalds, but it was a 24 hour drive thru, so we thought about taking a taxi through it or walking though it, but sadly we did not do either. We decided to get a little something to eat and go to the river to watch the sun rise. As we all sat cold, eating food that really was not that great, we marveled at the beauty and glory of God. Melo pointed out that we are at the second dirtiest river in the world, and still somehow it was incredibly beautiful. Thankfully Andres had is camera, because we took a ton of pictures. Most were good, some were strange, and the rest were simply goofy. It was a long night, but a good night. As Andres said in Facebook, we have a new record. "8 a.m." Thankfully Monday is a holiday. I may be able to rest a little then.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
"Toy Story" Soundtrack
I am having a bit of writer's block. Maybe it is because I am not a writer, and I normally try to present my random thoughts in a poetic prose with sophisticated words. However, I am a simple man with simple thoughts, goals, and dreams. More likely I cannot write because I have a tremendous amount of pressure compiling in my head. The last two days I have not felt well. Increasing pressure in my head, a nose that can't be caught, and some irritation in my throat. I would say it is nothing more, then the change of weather and a small cold, but I find it difficult to write these days.
Classes are settling into a rhythm much like normal. There is homework, classes, homework, class, and the dance continues. You all understand how it goes. I have begun to play more and more fútbol, although today I lack the initiative to go. Feeling ill and wanting to be in good health has kept me sidelined today. However, playing with the school has become one of my favorite things to do. It is a different group of individuals that I have the opportunity to know and talk to. Monday we ran for more then an hour, it is so strange, but I enjoyed it. I enjoyed pushing myself to that next level when the legs were heavy and the breath was short. Then we played eleven's. I had an opportunity to play number "cinco" and "cuatro." In other words that is defensive center-mid, and left back, but I kind of like the number system better. Other then fútbol and school, my days do not consist of much. I am lucky to get a little down time.
Today in my economy class, I had to present a chapter in our text. Once again I realized that I am meant to be a teacher. I am in world that I struggle at times to communicate, in front of a group of French, German, and U.S. students, and I am sure that my Spanish was not the best. However, despite my circumstances, I spoke between ten and fifteen minutes, and was able to convey what the factors that cause the development of the Latin American economy in the 19th and beginning of the 20th century. I know! Right? It was strange though, because I almost felt like a different side of me took over. I was feeling sick, nervous, and a little scared, and suddenly. I just started to teach IN ANOTHER LANGUAGE. It was a victory for me today. I seem to be able to find little victories a little more often recently. I have had random conversation on the bus with strangers, successfully bought food on my own, and even at fútbol, I talked to the coach and players all in Spanish. Little victories are beginning to fill up my life.
Strange, when you are so far from home. Sometimes you feel like there is the Great Wall of China between you and once close friends. Simple things like not knowing they took off to Chicago for the weekend, changed their name on Facebook, or even baked cookies, suddenly are transformed into live changing events. You realize how much you have taken for granted the simplest of relationships. I am realizing that those conversations after class, those quick "hey how you doing," or the random lunch/coffee get togethers are sometimes the most important times with friends. Being away, you begin to miss it all.
Oh, and I doubt that many of you understand how the title and what I wrote relate. Well I watched Toy Story 2 last night, and I thought the songs was a good depiction of my life. Especially, "You Got a Friend in Me," and "Strange Things" are great interpretations of my life. Well thanks for your prayers. Thanks for your thoughts. I miss you all.
Classes are settling into a rhythm much like normal. There is homework, classes, homework, class, and the dance continues. You all understand how it goes. I have begun to play more and more fútbol, although today I lack the initiative to go. Feeling ill and wanting to be in good health has kept me sidelined today. However, playing with the school has become one of my favorite things to do. It is a different group of individuals that I have the opportunity to know and talk to. Monday we ran for more then an hour, it is so strange, but I enjoyed it. I enjoyed pushing myself to that next level when the legs were heavy and the breath was short. Then we played eleven's. I had an opportunity to play number "cinco" and "cuatro." In other words that is defensive center-mid, and left back, but I kind of like the number system better. Other then fútbol and school, my days do not consist of much. I am lucky to get a little down time.
Today in my economy class, I had to present a chapter in our text. Once again I realized that I am meant to be a teacher. I am in world that I struggle at times to communicate, in front of a group of French, German, and U.S. students, and I am sure that my Spanish was not the best. However, despite my circumstances, I spoke between ten and fifteen minutes, and was able to convey what the factors that cause the development of the Latin American economy in the 19th and beginning of the 20th century. I know! Right? It was strange though, because I almost felt like a different side of me took over. I was feeling sick, nervous, and a little scared, and suddenly. I just started to teach IN ANOTHER LANGUAGE. It was a victory for me today. I seem to be able to find little victories a little more often recently. I have had random conversation on the bus with strangers, successfully bought food on my own, and even at fútbol, I talked to the coach and players all in Spanish. Little victories are beginning to fill up my life.
Strange, when you are so far from home. Sometimes you feel like there is the Great Wall of China between you and once close friends. Simple things like not knowing they took off to Chicago for the weekend, changed their name on Facebook, or even baked cookies, suddenly are transformed into live changing events. You realize how much you have taken for granted the simplest of relationships. I am realizing that those conversations after class, those quick "hey how you doing," or the random lunch/coffee get togethers are sometimes the most important times with friends. Being away, you begin to miss it all.
Oh, and I doubt that many of you understand how the title and what I wrote relate. Well I watched Toy Story 2 last night, and I thought the songs was a good depiction of my life. Especially, "You Got a Friend in Me," and "Strange Things" are great interpretations of my life. Well thanks for your prayers. Thanks for your thoughts. I miss you all.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Power in Small Places
I have been challenged recently about the impact I can have on the world that surrounds me every day. I have been challenged to view my power in a completely different manner. The last two weeks my church here in Argentina has been talking about the "good samaritan," and how we should help our neighbor. Interesting enough I am in a foreign country, so my concept of neighbor has been stretched and challenged, but more then my concept of neighbor, my concept of power is changing. What kind of power does a twenty-one year old in a foreign country, who hardly speaks the language have?
I have viewed myself in that light for years. How does one small act impact a world that is in pain? The other day I was walking down the street and someone asked me for a Coke. Simple, but I passed him, saying that I don't have any money. A lie, but I did not see the benefit in giving him a Coke. I walked a block, stopped, and prayed. I was unable to continue. Something was holding me back. I asked for the nearest supermarket, and went to buy a coke, obviously to give to the man. I did not say anything to him. Simply gave it and walked away. I have no idea the impact of such a small gift.
What kind of power do we have?
A storm was coming, as I was walking home form the university. I passed by a elderly woman, who probably had eighty or more years. She was walking with a cane and a bag of food or something. I passed and turned back around to ask if she need help. "Mi amor (my love)," she responded with affection, but she declined my offer since she only had a block to walk. Again, I cannot understand what she really thought, or how a small gesture impacted her life.
What kind of power do we have?
This morning I was not in the best of moods, but in the midst of it I received a letter. As I began to read this simple letter about life at home, about how she loves being a Grandma, about what she is learning from God. However, the letter brought me to tears. Feeling that I am loved, that I am not forgotten, and that someone cares enough to send a letter around the world to me was incredibly special.
What kind of power do we have? What kind of power do we have? In the smallest of actions, in the quietest of prayers, in the moments we feel the smallest, what kind of power do we have? God is big, his strength is tremendous, and we have the same power. So what kind of power do we have?
I have viewed myself in that light for years. How does one small act impact a world that is in pain? The other day I was walking down the street and someone asked me for a Coke. Simple, but I passed him, saying that I don't have any money. A lie, but I did not see the benefit in giving him a Coke. I walked a block, stopped, and prayed. I was unable to continue. Something was holding me back. I asked for the nearest supermarket, and went to buy a coke, obviously to give to the man. I did not say anything to him. Simply gave it and walked away. I have no idea the impact of such a small gift.
What kind of power do we have?
A storm was coming, as I was walking home form the university. I passed by a elderly woman, who probably had eighty or more years. She was walking with a cane and a bag of food or something. I passed and turned back around to ask if she need help. "Mi amor (my love)," she responded with affection, but she declined my offer since she only had a block to walk. Again, I cannot understand what she really thought, or how a small gesture impacted her life.
What kind of power do we have?
This morning I was not in the best of moods, but in the midst of it I received a letter. As I began to read this simple letter about life at home, about how she loves being a Grandma, about what she is learning from God. However, the letter brought me to tears. Feeling that I am loved, that I am not forgotten, and that someone cares enough to send a letter around the world to me was incredibly special.
What kind of power do we have? What kind of power do we have? In the smallest of actions, in the quietest of prayers, in the moments we feel the smallest, what kind of power do we have? God is big, his strength is tremendous, and we have the same power. So what kind of power do we have?
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Mountains, Trains, and a Journey to Mendoza
As the week ends I have had plenty of hours to reflect in the back of a pick-up truck. I went to another part of Argentina, which is a little more then twelve hours away. I was accompanied by our trusty Argentina friend, Fernando, Andrew, and Brittney. Mendoza is known for its wine that completes with the best from Italy and the Andes mountains. However my adventure starts even before our trip.
As we planned the trip planes continued to change. Finally we had a plan, which we finalized. The morning of something happened with the pick up truck we had planned to take. I am sure it was not a mechanical issue because the truck is practically brand new. However, we were not able to take the truck tuesday like we planned. It turns out it was a bit of divine planning. Tyler, who originally had planned to go, and would of gone if we had left on Tuesday, came down ill. He had an inflection in his intestines and was bed ridden till Friday. He is better now thankfully, but he was unable to journey with us.
Along this journey we had fun, including a game of Euchre with our Fernando, who at the time was driving. That did not last long, but I also encountered two robbers. About ten o'clock we stopped to use the restroom, and I went in to buy a sandwich, Fernando bought the same sandwich as I did plus a pop and paid 21 pesos, while I somehow had to pay 23 for the same sandwich and a small piece of candy. I am pretty sure the cashier just plain and simple robbed me. Afterwards as we were driving, we encountered check points at the bounder of each province, and as we entered one the officer asked to check our truck, Fernando showed him and was asked if we had fruit. I of course brought fruit to snack on, so Fernando showed him, only to be met with the response "Bon Provecho," which in the simplest form means bon appetite. I never saw my fruit again.
Despite the slow and frustrating start, the trip turned out to be incredible. As we drove through the mountains, which are the highest in the world outside the Himalayans, all I was able to think of is how God created these, and how he is able to move them without effort. It was a magnificent time of reflection and thought. The first day after Fernando and Andrew did not sleep and I only was able to manage a few uncomfortable hours, we did nothing. Rented a hostel, rested, rested some more, slept, and finally went into town to have a nice dinner. The next day we set out for the mountains. We drove past lakes blue as the sky, cold-crystal mountain streams, following a fast paced river into the heart of the mountains. There was an abandoned railroad, which casually strolled along the mountain side over hills and through tunnels. The railroad might of been my favorite part, watching carefully how it travels through a dark tunnel only to emerge again on the other side, seeing the it travel over bridges, and tracing it out into the distance only to see it disappear behind a grand mountain with a sharp curve. Must say it made me long to travel on it, but sadly at times the tracks lay broken and the bridges appeared unsure.
We arrived in the mountains to see two national landmarks: the Bridge of the Incas, which is a natural bridge that over time has been formed from ice and hot springs, and Aconcague, which is the highest peak in the world outside the Himalayas. We had a chance to walk around, take some photos, and spend time in the beautiful weather. It was definitely a place I would love to return to and do some more serious hiking (I lacked proper boots, backpack, and other equipment that would be necessary). Something that I have learned in my time in Argentina is that there is always an adventure. As we returned we stopped to make a dam in a mountain stream and drink its fresh water. As we continued retracing the train and night set in, we passed our road by 40 kilometers. I will let you do the math, but it is not a short distance. We returned home with goods to make pizza, a poncho, and hat (I bought the poncho and hat, because I was close to Chile, and that is what people do in Chile. NO? I thought everyone in Chile wore ponchos... oh well I have one now :) ).
The next day we began a long trip home, which we took slow and steady. We made several stops. One in Mendoza, in San Martin, and along the way. Arriving home I was refreshed and encouraged, however, I was still tired (almost wrote tried. I guess I am tired now too lol). It was a great trip.
Classes have now began and I am settling in well with those. It is great to have Cameron here with us now. I have missed that kid and I am sure he is going to grow tremendously, while he is down here. Well that is all for now.
As we planned the trip planes continued to change. Finally we had a plan, which we finalized. The morning of something happened with the pick up truck we had planned to take. I am sure it was not a mechanical issue because the truck is practically brand new. However, we were not able to take the truck tuesday like we planned. It turns out it was a bit of divine planning. Tyler, who originally had planned to go, and would of gone if we had left on Tuesday, came down ill. He had an inflection in his intestines and was bed ridden till Friday. He is better now thankfully, but he was unable to journey with us.Along this journey we had fun, including a game of Euchre with our Fernando, who at the time was driving. That did not last long, but I also encountered two robbers. About ten o'clock we stopped to use the restroom, and I went in to buy a sandwich, Fernando bought the same sandwich as I did plus a pop and paid 21 pesos, while I somehow had to pay 23 for the same sandwich and a small piece of candy. I am pretty sure the cashier just plain and simple robbed me. Afterwards as we were driving, we encountered check points at the bounder of each province, and as we entered one the officer asked to check our truck, Fernando showed him and was asked if we had fruit. I of course brought fruit to snack on, so Fernando showed him, only to be met with the response "Bon Provecho," which in the simplest form means bon appetite. I never saw my fruit again.
Despite the slow and frustrating start, the trip turned out to be incredible. As we drove through the mountains, which are the highest in the world outside the Himalayans, all I was able to think of is how God created these, and how he is able to move them without effort. It was a magnificent time of reflection and thought. The first day after Fernando and Andrew did not sleep and I only was able to manage a few uncomfortable hours, we did nothing. Rented a hostel, rested, rested some more, slept, and finally went into town to have a nice dinner. The next day we set out for the mountains. We drove past lakes blue as the sky, cold-crystal mountain streams, following a fast paced river into the heart of the mountains. There was an abandoned railroad, which casually strolled along the mountain side over hills and through tunnels. The railroad might of been my favorite part, watching carefully how it travels through a dark tunnel only to emerge again on the other side, seeing the it travel over bridges, and tracing it out into the distance only to see it disappear behind a grand mountain with a sharp curve. Must say it made me long to travel on it, but sadly at times the tracks lay broken and the bridges appeared unsure.
We arrived in the mountains to see two national landmarks: the Bridge of the Incas, which is a natural bridge that over time has been formed from ice and hot springs, and Aconcague, which is the highest peak in the world outside the Himalayas. We had a chance to walk around, take some photos, and spend time in the beautiful weather. It was definitely a place I would love to return to and do some more serious hiking (I lacked proper boots, backpack, and other equipment that would be necessary). Something that I have learned in my time in Argentina is that there is always an adventure. As we returned we stopped to make a dam in a mountain stream and drink its fresh water. As we continued retracing the train and night set in, we passed our road by 40 kilometers. I will let you do the math, but it is not a short distance. We returned home with goods to make pizza, a poncho, and hat (I bought the poncho and hat, because I was close to Chile, and that is what people do in Chile. NO? I thought everyone in Chile wore ponchos... oh well I have one now :) ). The next day we began a long trip home, which we took slow and steady. We made several stops. One in Mendoza, in San Martin, and along the way. Arriving home I was refreshed and encouraged, however, I was still tired (almost wrote tried. I guess I am tired now too lol). It was a great trip.
Classes have now began and I am settling in well with those. It is great to have Cameron here with us now. I have missed that kid and I am sure he is going to grow tremendously, while he is down here. Well that is all for now.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Two Months and Ten Things
1. God does not Change! What a need experience it has been to travel 5000 miles away from my home, but still pray to the same God. Pick up and read scripture in two languages. To look at my family and have conversations about God's sovereignty and how I have no idea, what he wants me to do right now. God did not change, while my language has been forced to change. His truth still remains2. The process of learning and growing. Growing can be one of the most painful things that one will do in there lifetime. It can also be the most rewarding thing. When you consisting pray for a humble heart, patience in learning, and for contentment in all, you realize that as God shapes and molds a holy heart there is pain, confusion, and brokenness. But amongst those emotions also exists joy, peace, and life. I cannot begin to describe all of the changes God is doing. Learning a language is obvious, but the other changes in my heart, in my life, were completely unexpected. I have a feeling that some people will not even recognize me when I return.
3. My family here. There is nothing more terrifying then trying to join a new family. A family that has their own problems, a family that already knows each others likes, dislikes, and how to relate and interact. I had no idea how this process would go, but I have been blessed by this family. They may not have a ton in material possessions, but they care. They selflessly give. They love me for me, despite all my flaws and terrible manners.
4. That grace students are here. Right now there are two brothers and one sister here, that I could not live without. I am incredibly grateful that there are others down here fighting this battle with me. They have similar struggles, pains, and fears, and they continually teach me, guide me, and encourage me to press on when I am down or when I have great days. I look forward to adding another brother. Señor Cameron Johns to our group. I know that he too will bless me and I hope that likewise I have blessed them through this experience. I could not do this without them. 5. That I still have more time here. I have been here two months, which have flown by, especially this last month. I have just begun the things that I want to do, not even to mention the things that I want to learn. I have grown tremendously despite feeling that I have just begun. I have four more months here, and within that time I want to grow tremendously more spiritual, personally, and with the language. Thankful that the trip is not yet over.
6. Dreams and memories. Interesting enough the more time I am here, the more I look back. I have thought about past relationships, I have thought about my failures, and my greatest accomplishments, I have thought about dreams I have made with people. Sometimes the simplest dream of teaching someone to drive, or complicated dreams of returning to a National tournament. I have reflected on my life and at times I have been ashamed, but at time I have been greatly encouraged. I am not perfect, and I will let everyone down that I have any kind of relationship with, but I tai heart in the story of David, the shepherd boy turned king. I am grateful for good memories and left longing by ones.
6. The internet. The internet allows me to stay connected to my family back home. I call my mom frequently and love seeing her, as well as my father. They are incredible individuals who encourage me and whom I love dearly. It has also allowed me to watch movies such as the Pride and Prejudice, Dead Poet's Society, Coach Carter, and Mission Impossible. I am also able to remain in contact with my team, and friends who I miss, as well as creep on their facebooks and blogs. With the internet you are never alone.
7. Fútbol!!! What a game? It brings out the competitive side in me. It also brings out the teacher in me. It is a game that extends across language and cultural barriers. One night while playing, I was being instructed to do something, but I didn't understand a word, which was being said, but I knew exactly what he wanted. For me that is a cool moment, but this is a game that I love. A game I want to share with people, whether that is playing with them, talking with them, or teaching them. And going to Argentina soccer games is also spectacular also8. La Iglesia. The church here is unbelievable. I have never been to a church that is so open, accepting, and intimately involved in one another's lives. The environment is wonder to come, learn, grow, and love. All of the people are gracious, willing to help and serve, and wanting to talk to the "grigos" despite the fact we don't know what they are saying. Well now we can manage conversations, but we began that way. This is a place I feel at home and look forward to attending every week.
9. Ice Cream!!! Everyone knows that I am an ice cream-holic, and anyone that has been to Argentina can testify that the ice cream is probably far better then anything in the States. I tried a mixed berry ice cream last night, which was to die for. I could just at ice cream all night and been content. Definitely thankful for good ice cream.10. Honestly I am unable to think of a number ten, so in honor of my friends here I will make a cry out for. ANNNNNGIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE!!!!! It is best that I leave it at that.
It is obvious there are things that did not make it on my list. There are things I wish I could elaborate more upon, but for the sake of time and space, here is my list of the ten things I am most thankful for in Argentina. Chau...
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Russian Mountains
So when you are in a different culture, away from family and friends, and are attempting something as daunting as learning a language, there are bound to be ups and downs. It does not help that generally I am an emotional person, but it has been interesting. Right now I seemed to have plateaued my growth. I am reached a wall, yet again. It is kind of frustrating, but I know it is only a dot.
If I can compare it to a graph, it as if you were moving to the right on a Cartesian plan with a positive x cubed line. It can be compared to a roller coaster, or russian mountain in Spanish (I still don't understand, why they call them russian mountains, but it is true!). However, I was gently reminded the other day that all things are possible with the help of Christ, even at times when the task overshadows the success. I was also reminded by a friend about comparing myself to others. I was reminded that comparisons are lies. Lies that I am not good enough, that I am a failure, that I will never learn this language. But all of these things are lies. I am good enough, I am not a failure, and I am able to learn this language. I am a child of God and none of these things hold merit in my life. It has been a good time of growth and continuing to learn of who I am in Christ.
This weekend was a long weekend, but it was also chill weekend. We cooked a "traditional" breakfast for my family. Pancakes and eggs. But it was definitely not traditional with Andrew and Brittney (the health nuts of the group). I went to Tigre, a small town that the city has began to overtake. We walked around, chilled, and had a relaxing day. Sunday went to church then after went out to PARTY (okay not really. We had a great asado, which is grilled food, and ice, and talked a ton), which I returned at five in the morning. Then Monday since I didn't have class, I went to a park to knock the soccer ball around, play frisbee, and afterwards had pizza. It was a pretty chill and relaxing weekend, despite battles with lies.
However, now I am refocused, encouraged, and ready to battle again. The one good thing about a russian mountain is you don't stay at the bottom long. You begin to climb, you are able to look around and enjoy the view, or enjoy a good friend's company. You climb higher and higher, feeling as if you can touch the sky. Then as your crown and peak over the edge, a rush runs through your body as you prepare for the thrill. Plunging into the next challenge with excitement and a never resting fear whispering in the back of your mind, but what is the focus? That little whisper can grow into a shriek as the problems seem to grow as the ever approaching ground below comes nearer. Will there be a crash? Will the car roll off the track as we approach this turn? That whisper grows ever louder until the only sound that can be heard is the shrills and cries for help. However, there is another reaction. A reaction of faith. When the car crowns the hill and plunges fast and hard down the track there is a sense of comfort. That in the middle of what may seem chaotic, loco, or even terrifying, there is an plan at work, and a had that is ever guiding. Shrills and shrieks do not sound from the mouth, but instead a strong yell of joy and hands rise above the head, as adoration and trust are affirmed. Then as you reach the bottom and begin to ascend once more you marvel at what has happened. At the joy you received from that small act of faith, and reassurance rushes over you. Once again you crown and throw your hands even higher as you fall out of your seat only to be sat gently back down.
I began this writing about the ups and downs of life. About how depression, happiness, sadness, and other emotions come and go. However, some how in the course of writing this I have found more joy, peace, and comfort. Beginning with a tone of discontentment and only wanting to complain, but now I have ended with something that is profound for me. The Russian Mountain of Life does not have to have be a boring, useless exercise, that merely comes and goes. That line that exists, when I am strapped in on a roller coast, between thrill and terror, and fear and faith, exists in life as well. Every day brings new challenges, which should terrify us, but also excite us. Every day we don't have control, which should give us fear, but at the very same time a overwhelming faith and peace should exist also. The track does not alter underneath our moving car. The car has a plan, a destination, and its course has been carefully mapped out. Every detail thought through and every doubt erased. The car never stops, never stops progressing towards the destination, and never leaves the track. There may be a sharp turn, a dark tunnel, a splash of unexpected water, but the car has a course. I have a course. ¡Encouraging! ¿NO?
Next time you are in a place that you don't understand, are not sure of, or frankly are just depressed about, remember the Russian Mountain. Ride the line between thrill and terror, between faith and fear.
If I can compare it to a graph, it as if you were moving to the right on a Cartesian plan with a positive x cubed line. It can be compared to a roller coaster, or russian mountain in Spanish (I still don't understand, why they call them russian mountains, but it is true!). However, I was gently reminded the other day that all things are possible with the help of Christ, even at times when the task overshadows the success. I was also reminded by a friend about comparing myself to others. I was reminded that comparisons are lies. Lies that I am not good enough, that I am a failure, that I will never learn this language. But all of these things are lies. I am good enough, I am not a failure, and I am able to learn this language. I am a child of God and none of these things hold merit in my life. It has been a good time of growth and continuing to learn of who I am in Christ.
This weekend was a long weekend, but it was also chill weekend. We cooked a "traditional" breakfast for my family. Pancakes and eggs. But it was definitely not traditional with Andrew and Brittney (the health nuts of the group). I went to Tigre, a small town that the city has began to overtake. We walked around, chilled, and had a relaxing day. Sunday went to church then after went out to PARTY (okay not really. We had a great asado, which is grilled food, and ice, and talked a ton), which I returned at five in the morning. Then Monday since I didn't have class, I went to a park to knock the soccer ball around, play frisbee, and afterwards had pizza. It was a pretty chill and relaxing weekend, despite battles with lies.
However, now I am refocused, encouraged, and ready to battle again. The one good thing about a russian mountain is you don't stay at the bottom long. You begin to climb, you are able to look around and enjoy the view, or enjoy a good friend's company. You climb higher and higher, feeling as if you can touch the sky. Then as your crown and peak over the edge, a rush runs through your body as you prepare for the thrill. Plunging into the next challenge with excitement and a never resting fear whispering in the back of your mind, but what is the focus? That little whisper can grow into a shriek as the problems seem to grow as the ever approaching ground below comes nearer. Will there be a crash? Will the car roll off the track as we approach this turn? That whisper grows ever louder until the only sound that can be heard is the shrills and cries for help. However, there is another reaction. A reaction of faith. When the car crowns the hill and plunges fast and hard down the track there is a sense of comfort. That in the middle of what may seem chaotic, loco, or even terrifying, there is an plan at work, and a had that is ever guiding. Shrills and shrieks do not sound from the mouth, but instead a strong yell of joy and hands rise above the head, as adoration and trust are affirmed. Then as you reach the bottom and begin to ascend once more you marvel at what has happened. At the joy you received from that small act of faith, and reassurance rushes over you. Once again you crown and throw your hands even higher as you fall out of your seat only to be sat gently back down.
I began this writing about the ups and downs of life. About how depression, happiness, sadness, and other emotions come and go. However, some how in the course of writing this I have found more joy, peace, and comfort. Beginning with a tone of discontentment and only wanting to complain, but now I have ended with something that is profound for me. The Russian Mountain of Life does not have to have be a boring, useless exercise, that merely comes and goes. That line that exists, when I am strapped in on a roller coast, between thrill and terror, and fear and faith, exists in life as well. Every day brings new challenges, which should terrify us, but also excite us. Every day we don't have control, which should give us fear, but at the very same time a overwhelming faith and peace should exist also. The track does not alter underneath our moving car. The car has a plan, a destination, and its course has been carefully mapped out. Every detail thought through and every doubt erased. The car never stops, never stops progressing towards the destination, and never leaves the track. There may be a sharp turn, a dark tunnel, a splash of unexpected water, but the car has a course. I have a course. ¡Encouraging! ¿NO?
Next time you are in a place that you don't understand, are not sure of, or frankly are just depressed about, remember the Russian Mountain. Ride the line between thrill and terror, between faith and fear.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Holidays, Fun, and RIVER
It has been eleven days since I have written anything about my trip. They have been an interesting eleven days. They have included bike rides, soccer games, mate by the river, excursions to Boca, long days in a boring classroom, unsent letters, and grave train accidents. It partly has been a long time since I have had the last two days off of school for Carnaval, which added to the excited. The eleven days did not occur exactly in that order, but everything and probably more was packed in.
Class was pretty boring last week. Nothing exciting happened, and I am kind of bored with simply taking Spanish classes. It does not help that I had class for six long hours a day. The week was pretty slow; I did not do much after the long days beside study and play games with Yoly. However, the weekend brought a flurry of exciting events. River game, late night with the grupo de vida, church, late night with Yoly, Riqui, and friend, visited Boca (both the neighborhood and stadium), went to the river to chill, watched a movie with some friends, went for a day of relaxation and bike riding, including a game of ultimate frisbee, and lunch in the park, ate dinner with my friends, returned home to study and sleep, and woke up late this morning to an terrible train wreck and an exam. I would say that my weekend and holiday was nothing but boring.
Valentine's Day happened during that course of time. In Argentina they don't really do much for it. Some people go out, but mostly it is a normal day. I happened to go to the movies with the other Grace students and two Argentinas. We saw Hugo. It was a good movie. Thought a lot about relationships and expressions of affection, but I didn't end up doing anything. However, I do have several unsent letters on my desk after that day. It was a good time of reflection of those that are in my life that I care about, family and close friends. I am blessed and sincerely looked by many!!!
However despite all the time with friends down here, despite that today I am tired and in pain when I sit down from riding a bike all day in beautiful weather, despite that I saw a great movie, and despite the fact I am now the reigning victor in all games in the house of the Dans, and despite all the late nights, nothing can compare to the soccer game. Probably its the highlight might of my eleven days and possibly of the trip thus far.
As we entered the stadium there was not a ton of people. There were groups of people huddled together talking, while the vendors mingled through the crowd shooting the standard, "Cocoa... Coka Cola!" We found some seats, then changed seats, because I guess they were not good enough, or for some unknown reason. As we settled into our new seats we began to look around. Casually we snapped pictures and talked as the stadium began to fill around us. The field was crisp and sharp. A wire change wrapped itself around the bright green grass. Inside the sense stood officers attentive and ready to act. Fanatics began to climb the wire fence that was topped with barbed wire to hang banners. The volume in the stadium began to rise as the visiting crowd began to chant. First only piercing whistles could be heard, then the roar of the chanting River faithful began to rise, "Soy de River, SOY DE RIVER. You could hardly hear the person next to you, and this is before the game was under way.
As the players took the pitch the volume increased, which I did not know was possible. The game was underway, everyone was upon their feet, and the volume did not cease. I have no idea what was said when there was an ejection with in the first ten minutes, but I am sure the entire stadium was swearing at the official. Now River was down a man, but was still able to score a goal, and the crowd went wild. I could of swore the ground shook beneath me. Throughout the game there were two more goals for River and a similar experience occurred. My friend, who is a River fanatic sat behind me and would occasionally pull my hair if I was not chanting or pumping my fist in unison. River won the day three to zero against Estudiantes Riveria del Mendoza.
I do not know of an experience in my life that is similar. When you look to your left and right and see ten's of thousands of hands pumping in unison and hear an echo roll though the stadium. There is nothing that I have seen that is similar. Quite a thrilling experience.
Class was pretty boring last week. Nothing exciting happened, and I am kind of bored with simply taking Spanish classes. It does not help that I had class for six long hours a day. The week was pretty slow; I did not do much after the long days beside study and play games with Yoly. However, the weekend brought a flurry of exciting events. River game, late night with the grupo de vida, church, late night with Yoly, Riqui, and friend, visited Boca (both the neighborhood and stadium), went to the river to chill, watched a movie with some friends, went for a day of relaxation and bike riding, including a game of ultimate frisbee, and lunch in the park, ate dinner with my friends, returned home to study and sleep, and woke up late this morning to an terrible train wreck and an exam. I would say that my weekend and holiday was nothing but boring. Valentine's Day happened during that course of time. In Argentina they don't really do much for it. Some people go out, but mostly it is a normal day. I happened to go to the movies with the other Grace students and two Argentinas. We saw Hugo. It was a good movie. Thought a lot about relationships and expressions of affection, but I didn't end up doing anything. However, I do have several unsent letters on my desk after that day. It was a good time of reflection of those that are in my life that I care about, family and close friends. I am blessed and sincerely looked by many!!!
However despite all the time with friends down here, despite that today I am tired and in pain when I sit down from riding a bike all day in beautiful weather, despite that I saw a great movie, and despite the fact I am now the reigning victor in all games in the house of the Dans, and despite all the late nights, nothing can compare to the soccer game. Probably its the highlight might of my eleven days and possibly of the trip thus far.
As the players took the pitch the volume increased, which I did not know was possible. The game was underway, everyone was upon their feet, and the volume did not cease. I have no idea what was said when there was an ejection with in the first ten minutes, but I am sure the entire stadium was swearing at the official. Now River was down a man, but was still able to score a goal, and the crowd went wild. I could of swore the ground shook beneath me. Throughout the game there were two more goals for River and a similar experience occurred. My friend, who is a River fanatic sat behind me and would occasionally pull my hair if I was not chanting or pumping my fist in unison. River won the day three to zero against Estudiantes Riveria del Mendoza. I do not know of an experience in my life that is similar. When you look to your left and right and see ten's of thousands of hands pumping in unison and hear an echo roll though the stadium. There is nothing that I have seen that is similar. Quite a thrilling experience.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Humility in Laughter
If you know we well sometimes it is practically impossible to follow my train of thought. Well imagine me talking about something off the wall or random in another language. Yep. Sometimes the students down here have to deal with it, but it usually makes for a funny story after the fact.
For example we went to the police station to get a back ground check the other day (it is one of the steps to get a student visa). While we were there I was trying to compare Brittney Smith to Tom Abbitt. Some of you know how Tom says, that he cries at supermarket openings, when for some reason, which I can't even remember now I tried to describe that to the other students in Spanish. Epic fail! Then at the police station some random lady tried to begin helping me, after about five minutes she understood, but the other students didn't. Interesting... I will just say I like the Argentine people better then the North Americans at times haha.
I am also a very literal person at times. The first time I took the Subway I ended up buying for tickets. In the Subway there are these gates that you place your transit card on which has money on it (similar to a debit card) on a a sensor, but each time I did it I saw a red light. In my literal mind I thought there was a error, but in reality there was not an error, but I preceded to do it four times. Well it is safe to say that I wasted some money that day.
I have also put a soccer ball in the river which I had to retrieve. Called a women dirty and said she had a wife. Okay that needs to be explained lol. The word for dirty is "sucio" in Spanish, and her name is Suzi. Well I added an "o" by accident, then the difference between husband and wife is one letter. "Esposo" for husband and "esposa" for wife. Well of course I switched that around too. She was gracious enough to laugh about it, but I definitely looked like a fool. Along with that the first week I was here I mixed up the words for trip and old (viaje, viejo). That kept people quite confused for the first couples days. Until I realized my error.
I am sure I have done other things that are strange, make me look like a fool, or frankly that are just weird, but people have been gracious enough to not mention them to me. It has been an interesting and humbling experience learning a language. I have been seen and felt like a child at times, because I can only communicate like a child. While I miss driving my car (I know it is a silly thing to miss), I am seen as incapable of driving in the crazy argentine environment. It is crazy, but I believe I could do it. However, I would not change any of the experiences I have had. I would not want to look less like a fool, or say less stupid things. It has been a blessing to be humbled, follow others, and learn. Stay tuned for more stupid things from Trenton haha.
For example we went to the police station to get a back ground check the other day (it is one of the steps to get a student visa). While we were there I was trying to compare Brittney Smith to Tom Abbitt. Some of you know how Tom says, that he cries at supermarket openings, when for some reason, which I can't even remember now I tried to describe that to the other students in Spanish. Epic fail! Then at the police station some random lady tried to begin helping me, after about five minutes she understood, but the other students didn't. Interesting... I will just say I like the Argentine people better then the North Americans at times haha.
I am also a very literal person at times. The first time I took the Subway I ended up buying for tickets. In the Subway there are these gates that you place your transit card on which has money on it (similar to a debit card) on a a sensor, but each time I did it I saw a red light. In my literal mind I thought there was a error, but in reality there was not an error, but I preceded to do it four times. Well it is safe to say that I wasted some money that day.
I have also put a soccer ball in the river which I had to retrieve. Called a women dirty and said she had a wife. Okay that needs to be explained lol. The word for dirty is "sucio" in Spanish, and her name is Suzi. Well I added an "o" by accident, then the difference between husband and wife is one letter. "Esposo" for husband and "esposa" for wife. Well of course I switched that around too. She was gracious enough to laugh about it, but I definitely looked like a fool. Along with that the first week I was here I mixed up the words for trip and old (viaje, viejo). That kept people quite confused for the first couples days. Until I realized my error.
I am sure I have done other things that are strange, make me look like a fool, or frankly that are just weird, but people have been gracious enough to not mention them to me. It has been an interesting and humbling experience learning a language. I have been seen and felt like a child at times, because I can only communicate like a child. While I miss driving my car (I know it is a silly thing to miss), I am seen as incapable of driving in the crazy argentine environment. It is crazy, but I believe I could do it. However, I would not change any of the experiences I have had. I would not want to look less like a fool, or say less stupid things. It has been a blessing to be humbled, follow others, and learn. Stay tuned for more stupid things from Trenton haha.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Feeling Like Life is Normal
Life is beginning to feel more normal here. Routines are set. The days seems to have a regular flow. The life here seems to have lost some of the initial "wow" or pazas... (I don't know if that is what I meant to say, but I am going to leave it in). I have school, soccer, and explore the city some during the week, and then during the weekend it is PARTY. Well if you consider partying hanging out with people from the church till three in the morning. Usually on the weeks all I do is chill with them. Play the guitar, knock the ball around, or simply just talk. It has been great getting to know these guys. They are some of the best guys.
The yesterday I skipped class to travel to Word of Life, Argentina. They have a beautiful campus there with beach volleyball, basketball, and soccer facilities, and even a pool. I went with Brittney's family (Merino's). We had a picked, played sports, and met people both from the United States and Argentina. It was a great day. However, the cherry was the message about witnessing and sharing our faith every day and demonstrating Christ's love. As you can tell I understand the theme or general idea. I still am not able to understand every word or sentence, but I am getting better.
I feel confident to try and hold a conversation about something. Stories, events, and other concrete things are pretty easy to discuss. It gets harder when I try to explain beliefs, feelings, and thoughts. However, I see growth and I believe those around me see the growth to. The best is when someone recognizes I am not from here, asks me where I am from (which makes it even better because they don't assume or believe I am from the United States), and then precede to compliment me on my language. It only happens now and then, but it makes me feel pretty good when it does.
The yesterday I skipped class to travel to Word of Life, Argentina. They have a beautiful campus there with beach volleyball, basketball, and soccer facilities, and even a pool. I went with Brittney's family (Merino's). We had a picked, played sports, and met people both from the United States and Argentina. It was a great day. However, the cherry was the message about witnessing and sharing our faith every day and demonstrating Christ's love. As you can tell I understand the theme or general idea. I still am not able to understand every word or sentence, but I am getting better.
I feel confident to try and hold a conversation about something. Stories, events, and other concrete things are pretty easy to discuss. It gets harder when I try to explain beliefs, feelings, and thoughts. However, I see growth and I believe those around me see the growth to. The best is when someone recognizes I am not from here, asks me where I am from (which makes it even better because they don't assume or believe I am from the United States), and then precede to compliment me on my language. It only happens now and then, but it makes me feel pretty good when it does.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Twenty-Eight Days
Four weeks, twenty-eight days, 672 hours, 40320 minutes, or 2,416,200 seconds I have been in Argentina, whatever measurement of time your prefer. It has went by so fast. In reality one sixth of my trip is already done. That is kind of depressing, at least for me, because I know some people, especially my mother would love to have me safe at home.
The shock has begun to reside. While I don’t feel like I completely fit in yet, that is obvious because there are days that I am in able to speak the language. For example the other day I used four different verbs, in four different tenses, within fifteen seconds. Thankfully the lady simply waited patiently for me to figure out what I wanted to say. So there are times that I can’t speak, but I feel better. I feel more tranquilo lol.
It was neat this morning, when my plans failed to obtain a SUBE card, which is the bus pass, I went out and began snapping pictures. I began to realize how beautiful of a city it is.
The city appears torn between two ages. An age long ago, which was marked be gran architecture and elegant details, and an age of polished brass and crystal glass oppose each other. While cracked steps lead up to the elegant wooden door, which leads into a house build for a aristocrat long ago, a high rising building overshadows the craftsmanship. Cracked plaster is exposed as renovations are done upon a building that has weathered storms, wars, and several generations, while the adjacent lot stands empty being prepared to soar high up in the air. Ivy grows up the wall of a house built of plaster, while steel and glass stand in contrast. As you walk down the rough streets made up bricks suddenly they change to paved asphalt, then as you turn down another street it is lined with statures of people who lived long of reflecting the vast history of the city. That was me trying to be poetic and capture a little bit of what the city looks and feels like to me. Well thing are going pretty well here. I am racking up funny stories to tell, and here soon I will share some of them. It has been good. God has been good!
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