Shell!

So a couple of weeks ago (back in August) I was able to go to Shell, near the jungle. It was awesome because I got to see Nate Saint's house which was super cool for me. If you remember I was in At Any Cost and I got to represent him in the presentation. Also, I found out that my grandfather went to school with him years before he became a missionary to Ecuador. One of the best parts was at night when all the fireflies where out! It was so amazing. I wonder how God comes up with this stuff?

I've just been so convicted lately. But not quite sure what to do about it or how God wants me to change. I just feel extremely selfish. Kinda ironic, considering that I'm down here to serve. But it's true. I've spent most of the time thinking about how to be more comfortable or when it's not an option just thinking about when I was or will be again. I just don't know if I'm making the kind of connections I should be. Maybe I'm expecting too much out of myself. I needed to sleep early last night but couldn't because of all this. Which put me in a bad place for this morning. I get up to go to work. I've been taking taxis to the south to work at Remanso because taking the bus there is too confusing and kinda dangerous, if I miss it. But this taxista didn't know where I needed to go, I was under the impression that he knew the general area and I even told him what highway to use. No good. He kept asking me and I wasn't sure which way it was to get to that highway and then other people and making lots of U turns... I knew I was in trouble. By this time I missed my first class and was going to miss the second. I'm in tears. I really had no idea what to ask for. I was afraid to ask him to let me out, because I didn't know the area. So finally after the meter was past the point it would have been to get there and over an hour later he just tells me sorry and says I should find another taxi, I get out and don't pay him. And there I am on the street coner (God only knows where) in Quito crying my eyes out. Awesome. I call the teacher I'm supposed to help and tell her I'm lost and going home. She was going to have someone pick me up but I didn't know where I was and I think she thought I was closer to the school than I was (I was still about 40 mins away). I couldn't figure out how to say "I can't stop crying" in Spanish so I just said I can't come, I'm going home, instead. In the words of Eliza Doolittle "I cannn't, I' got an 'eadache."
So I was supposed to post this in September but never got around to it. Two days after this we had the police coup which shut down the airport and all bus transportations. It was crazy. I just stayed in doors for two days and didn't really go out any more than was needed. It was honestly a nice break from working but I was a little worried about my friends who were coming in the next week to visit me. But by the next day the president was un-kidnapped and the country was pretty much back to normal, and my buddies made it here and back safely (well Marlo at least as far as Houston). But the stangest thing about all of this for me is: why is coup spelled with a P? I mean come on... really? I don't care if it comes from French or whatever just help a sista out.

Punch Line

What has happend the last few days that make me love and hate this place:

Went to my 8 o'clock class today, and arrived early. Everyone else showed up at 8:45 or 8:50. I needed to leave at 9 sharp to head to my next ministry sight (PDV). I waited for the pastor because he said he was going partly there, I was so worried he wouldn't leave on time and then I'd be in trouble. But he did. But then he stopped to talk to the police. I almost had a heart attack. Lucky for me it was only a few minutes... there have been times where it's been 30 minutes of "I'm leaving now." I then took and bus to a taxi to Pan de Vida. Made it and early (ok this part isn't so normal)! So after setting up for the yard sale I was put in charge of keeping the people back, passing out food and praying for them. Well I'm willing to pray but it's really hard in Spanish. So I prayed in the language which is easiest for me at the moment, Spanglish! *Side note: that movie "Spanglish" is my movie for this year, I love it. Okay, back to the story, I was trying to pray for someone but messing up my Spanish horribly and there was a guy there who started helping me translate. Then I came over to pray with him... turns out he speaks really good English and lived in the US for a few years but got deported. He worked with a medical mission’s organization but they are no longer in Ecuador and so he is out of work. He asked for prayer for that and for his sister who had just lost a baby. He also asked if he could help volunteer! I was just blown away. I mean if I was out of a job, honestly I don't know if I'd be looking to volunteer, would you?! I mean of course I'm sure he's hoping to build contacts while in search for work, but still! He had such a servant’s heart and he was thanking me for all I was doing. It was really humbling. And as I continued on praying (kinda like a crippled in the spiritual and lingual side of things) I just wondered "who the heck am I to pray for these people?" Me of all people stumbling over my words, hoping the God of the entire universe will hear me. I hope God at least got a good smile out of it!!! But truly I felt so blessed being able to pray for people, that Jesus would use me of all people there. Well after I left there I waited 45 minutes to be picked up (when I was supposed to wait 5). Then got to class and had to wait while they gave a talk about something. So my class started when it should have ended. And there went all my plans for the day because by that time I just had to get back before it got dark. Well I took myself back, and I didn't no the short way so I ended up taking me two hours to get back to the house (I'm soo glad I'm moving on the 8th). The first hour the bus smelled like crap, literally. So nasty. The only saving grace was the wind when the bus moved, until the bus attendant decided to torture me and close it.

One thing that totally shames me is that the people here are so considerate of others in a totally different way than I am. Like it maybe be small but when they get a cookie they bring one for everyone or they'll share. It really is a good lesson for me to think of others... I always feel like a big jerk whenever they offer me something I didn't even think of them! But I'm learning. :)

I was riding home yesterday and this lady rudely told me to move my big bag, right where other people were standing so she could sit (there were no overhead compartments for me to store the bag in). Have they never heard of the word please here??? Then as she climbed over me she hit me in the face with her stupid bad, which I slapped away. I wanted to punch her in the face (side note: I've been using that phrase "I want to punch you in the face" so much lately that I unknowingly though some of my Ecuadorian friends, they think it's funny, I think I have anger issues). So I rolled my eyes as she pretty much sat on me (another side note: I appreciate skinny people here, they can stay on their side of the seat, and the fat ones are all up in my grill! I literally have them sitting partly on my leg and their arms cover mine, when they could easily put it in front of them). Then with in 5 minutes she strikes up a conversation! Can she not tell that I'm seething in anger? So I try to calm down so I can "chat" with her. She asks me all of the usually questions and some really strange ones... I still have no idea what the heck she was saying. I kept telling her I didn't understand so of course she'd repeat the same word the same way, over and over again. I finally told her I don't know that word hoping she'd use another one I'd understand but nope... here the same one comes but slowly this time. Then I did it. I punched her in the face! Okay, maybe that's not true but it would have made for a really good story. So I struggled through awkwardly and thinking to myself "this is going to be a long 1 hour drive." And she almost made me miss my bus stop but repeating that same word for the 4th time during the ride. These are the type of situations that seem small but added up drive me insane. I'm sorry I'm easily annoyed. So much so that when I was a teenager I used the word annoyed so often, my mother made me come up with synonyms (guess I'm not the only one to get annoyed quickly). I've come up with quite a few over the years: irritated, perturbed, frustrated, irked, agitated, you are driving me crazy, I'm going crazy, you make me want to punch myself in the face (see side note above), just to name a few off the top of my head with out looking any up.

I've been thinking about things I miss. Driving. It's been 9 months, I miss it. Never thought I'd say that. but after the last few bus stories I'm sure you understand why. Cottage cheese. Baths. Remembering what it was like to have a night go by and not hear 100 dogs barking. My family. Freedom. Heaters. Non-barred windows. Sleep in the mornings. Warm water. Friends. At the moment, sleep....