Today Kia turns even more of a teenager!  Ai, ai, ai! 

She invited a group of friends over, and so after school a group of ten gringos under variously colored umbrellas made our way through the rainy streets of this part of San Jose to our house.  They played games, ate cake and then played more games.  One by one the friends left, and Kia and I walked the last two home (through the now pouring rain).  On the way back I asked her if she had fun. 

“Yeah,” she said, “I’m glad my friends were there.”

The pizza place where she wanted to order pizza is closed on Mondays, so she postponed her birthday dinner until tomorrow night.  Instead, we had some ramen noodle type chop suey that tasted as good as one could expect from ramn noodle type chop suey. 

She had a fun day.  She’s made a lot of new friends here…but I know she’s missing some old one’s as well.  Please pray for her as she keeps on adjusting.  She’s doing great and doesn’t complain.  She’s happy we are here, and she’s grown a lot…but it’s hard.  The other day she said she wished we were back in Georgia where we had a Sabbath dinner ever Friday night with Challah bread and roasted chicken and, she said, “It was a big deal.”  (Our dinner is a Messianic Sabbath, because Jesus, after all, was Jewish.  We try to set our Sabbath by doing something he might have done.)

I didn’t realize she missed it that much.  I’ve missed it.   We’ve been wanting to start again, but schedules and plans and…and…and…

“But,” I reminded the girls, “Y’all have been at a friends house for the past three Friday nights.” (Sort of a youth group type thing at another missionary’s house.)

“Oh, yeah,” they say with a smile.

New traditions and old ones.  It gets dark earlier here.  We’ll work on making it work this Friday!

Hiking and Rappelling

I have something about heights.  When we were in candidacy week with The Mission Society, we candidates went on a ropes course.  That’s one of those things where they have games and activities to help us to get to know and to trust one another.  One of the last activities took place in a nice pine tree woods.  High in the air between two of the trees was a telephone pole laid on end.  Our task, we were told as we were harnessed in one by one, was to cross the telephone pole thirty feet in the air.  No handrails.  No guide ropes (just the safety ropes hooked to the harness).  My first time up, my leg was shaking so much, the trees thought it was hurricane season. 

“No problem,” I was reassured by our leader, ”Just lean back into open air until your feet are above your head and I’ll let you down.” 

I didn’t believe him, but I had no choice and as soon as my feet were above my head, I felt the pull of the rope and I was lowered to safety. 

On my second try up to the bean, I made it across.  Still shaking.  Still emotional.  But I made it.

Today was the girls’ turn.  We didn’t go on a ropes course.  Instead we went mountain climbing and rappelling with other students from the langauge school.  The mountains were high and tough.  The views were spectacular.  The cliffs were steep and the ledges narrow.  

I should say, the girls went mountain climbing and rappelling.  I just went climbing.  When it came to the rappelling part, by old fear of heights reared its head.  I stayed below the cliff and belayed (that is, I kept the ropes straight down below and guided the rappellers from there).  To be fair, it was a major feat for me to do this when I realized I myself was standing on just a six foot ledge to another forty foot drop.  Recalling this, my hands are sweaty as I type this.

The girls made me proud.  As we walked to youth group tonight, I asked them both how they felt about their accomplishments.  Both felt great.  They met a fear and conquered it…at least in part.   I could write about all they did and how they felt, but I’m going to try to get them to write about it.  In the meantime, we have some pictures.  Just click on Kia’s picture above and you’ll link to our web album.

After everyone wanting to rappel had a chance, we took a break before starting again.  Only fifteen minutes into the second set, we looked up and a Costa Rican thunder storm had slipped in on us.  ”Time to call it a day,” said our leader.  As he stood securely on the cliff above me, he tossed the rope down and told me to stuff it into the bag.  I was halfway finished with this when we felt the first rain drops.  A few more pushes of the rope, and we saw the flash of lightning and heard the crack of thunder.  Time to get off the mountain. 

We didn’t have time to put on our rain ponchos.  A cold rain beat on us as we slipped and slid down the trail that lead us up.  We were all “soaked to the bone” (as Kia said) and caked with mud, but we were laughing and smiling (sometimes to keep from crying).  If you have ever seen the moving Romancing the Stone and remember the scene of the heroine sliding down the mountainside in a rainstorm…we were really close to that!

It was an adventure and we feel blessed…tired…but blessed.  Be blessed in your adventures today.

It’s been another week of learning.  Changing the endings on verbs.  Learning about pronouns.  Adding and subracting this and that from sentences to make them make sense. 

Someone once told us that the teaching of languages has been done wrong for years.  He said, “If you want to learn a language, you don’t need a teacher.  What you need is an assistant.” 

“Do what?  I think I need a teacher!”

“No,” he insisted, “you don’t.” He then went on to explain that learning a language is not like the other subjects in school.  It’s not like math or science or social studies.  In those subjects you learn new concepts and ideas.  In learning a language, you do not learn new concepts and ideas.  Yes, you learn new words.  You learn new grammar rules.  But you don’t learn new concepts.  You simply learn new ways of expressing old concepts. 

In science, the sky is blue no matter what language you use to study it.  You just say it differently:  “The sky is blue.  El cielo es azul.  Der Himmel ist blau.”  Same idea.  Different words.

In math, the addition facts don’t change if you use different words.  Whether you say it “one plus one,” ”uno mas uno” or “eins plus eins” the answer is still two, dos, or zwei. 

Learning a language, our friend told us, is more like PE than any other subject.  As we learn it, the new langauge becomes a part of us.  We don’t need teachers, he insisted.  We need assistants to help us to acquire the language as a part of who we are. 

I think we understand the concept of language being like PE a lot this week.  Even though our classes are mental exercises of grammar, phonics and conversation, we come home and are physically exhausted from the tops of our heads to the tips of our toes. 

Praise God for the chance to get worn out for the Kingdom of God!

Learning to speak another language is hard work!  Audra and I have done it before when we studied German, but that was more than 20 years ago.  Things have changed in our brains!  Audra says she has seen official science research that says women actually lose brain cells when they have children!  I don’t know what happens to fathers, but it is still hard to be a student again.

A few falls ago after I finished seminary, I realized that that was the first time in 28 years I had not entered a classroom either as a student or as a teacher.  A few years have passed since then and, as much as I like learning, it is still hard to sit in a desk and listen and learn and absorb and comprehend and understand and practice and apply and all the other things we need to do in order to become as fluent as we can in another language. 

We love the Spanish langauge.  We love the way it sounds and trickles off the tongue.  We enjoy saying things in another language to each other and actually understanding it!  We love the way new words help us to look at the world in new ways. 

Spanish is similar to English in many ways, but very different as well.  There are false congnates (words that sound like English words but have different meanings) like embarazada which means pregnant and not embarrassed.  Words like chocar that means crash instead of choke; and sensible which means sensitive instead of sensible.   

There are words that sound close to one another that have lead to a lot of fun mistakes.  The other day I was explaining to our empleada (house help) about Thanksgiving.  I told her that families all across America bake a big turkey (pavo) for dinner.  Instead of pavo, though, I said, polvo.  According to my story, we bake a big pile of dust instead of a turkey for dinner.  

A friend of ours takes the cake though.  He went to the bakery to buy some donuts (donas).  Instead of donas, though, he put the squiggly line above the ñ (an enya).  That changed the meaning of the word from donuts to the word used to describe a respected woman.  In Spanish he said, “Yo quiero dos doñas…una blanco y una negro“  (I want two women…one white and one black.)  All the women in the store who spoke Spanish couldn’t contain their laughter! 

I imagine the Ticos around here have a ton of stories they tell each other as they talk about all us gringos learning Spanish!

Learning Spanish is a lot of work.   We have to be careful.  We have to have fun.  At our training in Colorado last Spring, we were told in order to learn a langauge we have to make at least a million mistakes.  We aren’t there yet…but we’re working on it!

Be blessed as you work on your million in whatever you are wanting to learn!

The fireworks began promptly at six o’clock.  They weren’t the kinds that sprayed flowers and starbursts into the sky.  Instead, they just made a lot of noise.  Loud bangs east of us, followed by more to the south.  Those were answered by bangs and pops from the north and the west.  All around us the celebration had begun:  187 years of independence from Spain.  They were not all years of peace and security, but they were (mas o menos) years of freedom from under the thumb of another nation. 

We had heard a fila (a parade) of faroles (lanterns) would start soon after the fireworks began.  We stepped out to our front lawn to join in, but the streets were eerily quiet.  We waited.  We watched.  Nothing.  Women waiting for the bus across the street assured us the fila came by casi siempre (almost always).  Dinner was on the table so we left the door open (locking the gates, of course) and came in to eat.  “You’ll hear it,” we’d been assured.

Midway through the meatloaf, we heard some more fireworks and then the drums began.  Rushing outside we looked, but the park was still quiet, and the drums were receeding in the distance. 

“Quick,” we said, “let’s see if we can find it.”

Four blocks away we saw the crowds carrying their faroles (their lanterns).  Hundreds of people.  Old and young.  En masse.  Smiling.  Laughing.  Carrying the light of freedom and following the sound of drums beaten by school children.  We became a part of this mass of humanity.  Undulating.  Growing.  Smiling.  Laughing.  Sharing in the freedom that was theirs…and was ours. 

The fireworks began the next morning promptly at five.  “Bombs bursting in air,” came to my mind as I remembered it was the day of independence for Costa Rica:  September 15.  Catching a bus with another family we headed downtown San Jose to the big celebrations.  The president of Costa Rica was going to speak.  This would be the chance of a lifetime.  We met another group of gringos in the city and made our way to the Parque Nacional.   The area was roped off and the policia were watching the perimeter. 

“Donde podemos entrar?” (How can we get in?) I asked one of them. 

She pointed to the front gate.  We weren’t searched.  We weren’t watched closly.  We just walked in and stood closer than 50 yards from where the president would speak, and only about 20 feet from where all the foreign ambassadors would be sitting.  (I spoke with the ambassador from Poland, but didn’t meet the American ambassador). 

After singing the national hymn and the song of San Jose, we listened to a school child speak of peace.  Then the mayor of San Jose.  Protesters lifted a banner, banged on pots, and blew whistles.  The mayor kept on talking.  The kids were restless (so were we), but the media cameras loved the gringo kids waving Costa Rican flags.  (They were on the news last night, one of our teachers told us today, but we missed them.)  We left early and got ice cream before watching the parades in downtown.  Marching drums and bands.  Dancing.  School children showing the pride of Costa Rica.  No military bands.  No armies.  No guns and no tanks.  Just kids and adults celebrating freedom.  A mass of humanity that welcomed us in. 

We were exhausted last night.  We were exhilerated last night.  We had experienced freedom in a different way. 

This is a very important weekend in Costa Rica becuase Monday is the Dia de la Independencia.  At school yesterday we had a brief history lesson to help us to understand the events of this weekend better. 

Back in the early 1800s, all the current countries of Central America except for Panama were a part of Guatemala (Panama belonged to Columbia).  They were a colony of far-off Spain and had many of the same issues the American Colonists had a generation before:  they didn’t like being ruled by people who really had no idea what their needs were, and they didn’t want to pay taxes when the money paid would not benefit them in any way.  When Napoleon Bonepart of France took over Spain and appointed his drunken brother to rule the land, the people of the new world decided it was time to act. 

On September 14, 1821, a group of leaders met in the capitol of Guatemala (which included all of Central America, remember) to decide whether or not to declare independence from Spain.  The citizens of Guatemala, however, did not want to stand by silently, and they gathered outside the building where the politicians were meeting, and holding lanterns (faroles) for light, they shouted they wanted independence.  The next day, September 15, 1821, independence was declared. 

Similar to what happened in the United States, it still had to be ratified by the nations involved and so riders took the news to the various capitols of El Salvador, Hondorus, Costa Rica, and Nicaraugua to spread the news.  Becuause it was rainy season here, the normal eight day horseride to the then capitol city of Costa Rica, Cartago, took a month.  At first Costa Rica did not want to declare they were an independent country because they were so small in size.  Eventually, however, independence was declared and Costa Rica became a nation.

 The Dia de la Independencia is celebrated all across Central America as all the countries declared freedom and autonomy. 

Celebrations will begin Sunday night at 6 PM when all Costa Ricans will stop what they are doing to sing the national anthem (it is broadcast on all the radio and television stations).  After that, families come out of their homes with lit lanterns (which many made at home) reflecting the fact that independence was from the demands of the people. 

Celebrations continue on Monday morning (the actually day of independence) with parades around the local schools.  All the countries will have parades, but Costa Rica’s will be unique.  All the other nations will have parades showing off their military power.  Costa Rica has not had a military since the 1940s (they are known as the Switzerland of Central America).  Our speaker yesterday proudly proclaimed, “Our military is our children!”  (Saying that education is very important for the Costa Rican people). 

One of my teachers threw me for a loop today.  We were talking how to talk about the weather using a certain verb form combination type thing.  He went around the class asking us about the weather in certain places:  your home state, in Guatemala, and so on.  All this, of course, was done in Spanish.   When my turn came, he asked me about the weather in Georgia in invierno.  I confidently answered him about the typical weather of a Georgia winter:  cool, with some clouds, lots of sun, some rain…  He said, “Muy Good” (he likes to mess around with language like I do) and moved on to the next student.  After a few minutes he asked a final student, “How is the weather in Costa Rica during invierno?” 

“I’m not sure when invierno is,” she said.

“Now,” he said.

What? I thought.  Did I get the wrong word.  I thought invierno meant winter, but he just said it is now.  I quickly scrambled in my bag to find my Spanish-English dictionary to look it up… i-n-s… i-n-t… finally i-n-v-i-e-r-n-o.  Invierno, I read, masculine noun…winter.

Do what?  Throughout all my years I learned the amazing thing about the world is that when it is one season north of the equator, it is another season south of the equator.  In the United States I know it is still summer.  I also know we are still north of the equator… not much–only 9 degrees–, but we are still north.  Therefore, it must be verano (summer) not invierno. 

Could my teacher (gasp!) be wrong?

It was then I read a bit further in my dictionary.  Invierno does indeed mean winter, but in Latin America it also means rainy season.  Watching the clouds gather around the mountains and listening to the rumbles of thunder, I couldn’t deny it… it is the rainy season… it is indeed invierno. 

So much to learn… ay, ay, ay!

Today is a special day for the children of Costa Rica:  Dia de los ninos.   While talking with one of our teachers this morning, we learned that the kids go to school (at least elementary school) and will have no work to do.  What will greet them today is parties and games and fun.  It’s a day set aside to celebrate children and their place in society.  It appears as though the older kids have a regular day of classes.  I really don’t know much about the day, but have gathered a few tidbits reading an article in a magazine while waiting for Todd at the dentist:

1.  It is an annual event.

2.  It has been celebrated for more than 70 years.

3.  It was originally held in the spring, but was moved to the fall.

4. The kids really look forward to it.

5.  It seems to be a fairly common thing throughout Latin America.

6.  It is difficult to find specific information about the holiday. 

While I was typing this, Audra came in and read over my shoulder.  “Oh, yeah,” she said, “We were supposed to get the kids presents today.”

“Who says,” says I.

“I don’t remember,” she said, “One of my teachers…”

We didn’t get them anything except a big hug and kiss.  Audra made a carrot cake tonight, though.  Does that count?

Whatever it is and whatever the reason for it’s beginning, here’s wishing you a very happy children’s day–dia de los ninos.  May you remember with joy your own childhood today!

In between studying grammar and practicing my Spanish, I’ve been doing a lot of reading about Christian anthropology and customs.  As a missionary, it is vitally important for us to understand the cultures of the people where we are.  It’s been facinating reading.  One thing that has hit me again in my reading is the prayers of the people of cultures who are not yet Christians (or who weren’t Christian at the time the prayers were first said).  Throughout history, God has used all sorts of people to teach Christians the truth about himself (for an example from the Bible, look at the story of the Babylonian captivity.) 

I agree with John Wesley (the founder of the Methodist movement–and consequently holiness movement, Salvation Army, and many others) who said there are threee types of grace:  Prevenient, Justifying and Sanctifying grace.  The last two are concerned with the love of God poured out on us when we know Jesus.  The first, Prevenient Grace, is concerned with the love of God poured out on us before we even know God exists.  I believe God loves us before we love God.  I believe God wants us to know how much we are loved, and is doing whatever God can to bring us into a relationship with him.  This love of God is available at all times to all people in all places.  That is why it is possible to see strong Christian understanding of God in the prayers of all different cultures of the world.  They have a partial understanding of the love of God.  It’s not yet complete…

 For example, listen to the words of this prayer from an eighth-century Muslim mystic:

“O, my Lord, the stars are shining and the eyes of men are closed, and the kings have shut their doors, and every lover is alone with his beloved, and here I am alone with you.  O my Lord, if I worship you from fear of hell, burn me in hell, and if I worship you in hope of paradise, exclude me from there, but if I worship you for your own sake, then don’t hold me back from your eternal beauty.”

Aren’t those words beautiful?  Even though the words were penned by a woman who did not believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God come to take away the sins of the world, the words are powerful and reflect the attitude that Christians should hold in their relationship with God.  As Christinas we need to talk to God neither becuase we fear hell nor because we look forward to heaven (though there is a good chance both are true).  We need to talk to God quite simply because God is God.  This prayer has been a challenge for me this week.  

Why do I pray?  How do I pray?  Am I in the presence of God or in the presence of my fears?  The woman who first prayed those words did not have a complete understanding of God–for that matter, neither do I–, but in her understanding of prayer, her knowledge of God appears to be much more Biblical than my own.  God’s prevenient grace in her life has the ability to make a tremendous difference in mine. 

As a missionary I need to remember that I don’t know all there is to know about God.  The cultures of the people whom I am serving can teach me as well (after all, God’s Prevenient love has been with them since the begining of their civilization).  I need to not only be solid in my understanding of Scripture but also I need to be willing to listen to the understanding of God they already possess.  That is where we need to start.  Please pray for us as we seek to be the hands and feet of Jesus Christ. 

May you know the eternal beauty of God today in your life…and in your prayers.

Our first week of class is over.  We’ve looked at phonics, spoke about different themes in conversation class, and studied some grammar.  We’ve made some friends.  We’ve laughed.  We’ve cried.  It’s been a week…

Audra and I are in different classes at different levels, but we do have two of the same teachers (we each have three).  It has been fun comparing notes becuase they use different techniques for the different classes.  I was sitting in grammar class yesterday afternoon (the hour between noon and one is not a good time for Grammar classes), conjugating verbs and putting the right article with the right noun when it hit me:  “The teachers have been speaking nothing but Spanish with us all week… and we understand what is going on!”  That is an amazing feeling.  Some of the the teachers talk slower; others talk at normal speeds…but we can understand them! 

There is a large group from Texas here who are heading to Peru as well.  They will be working in the city of Lima.  God bless them!  (We didn’t like Lima all that much.)  We’ve already started building some friendships with them and are excited about being in the same country.  We will be traveling to Lima fairly often for various reasons, so it will be good to know people there.

It’s been a week…and we’re exhausted.  

Be blessed!