It goes without saying that we need your prayers daily. No country is perfect, and each one has its own religious personality. Paraguay is a strange blend of Catholicism and black magic. Say what you will about the reality of witchcraft and its power or lack thereof, but it is a real force here and shows itself in strange ways sometimes. I'll post more on that later, probably.

For now, I want to share what has happened this past week. You know we've been handing out blankets to the neighbors, trying to hit the most poor first. To look at any of them from our North American standpoint, they're all worthy of blankets. But the truth is that the ones who live closer to the (dirt) road tend to have their own animals, sometimes an outside job, and some way of bringing in money and buying some of what they need. As you walk further from the road, you find the intense poverty of many children living in a house with or without both parents/grandparents, with or without a "roof" or walls to speak of. So these are the people most in need of a blanket or two, who can't provide for their children more than the food they get from their own gardens and animals.

However, even in situations like this where you'd think poverty would form bonds of brotherhood and neighborly help, human nature prevails and selfishness takes over. People want lots of blankets for their own home, or they stress that their neighbor doesn't need one in an effort to get us to give the neighbor's to them instead.

This past weekend, a lady came to the house asking for a blanket. We'd already handed out all of the latest batch, but she persisted. Thank God this happened on a weekend, when our evangelist friend Saul comes out to work with us in the community. (It's more realistic to say we work with him...) He knew the woman enough to know that her family is one of the most well-off in this area, and that she didn't really need a blanket. He explained to her about the houses we were visiting and the level of poverty they are in. He also explained that we had a responsibility to seek out the most needy and not to hoard all the blankets into one house or give to those who could conceivably go into town and get their own. Despite how delicately he explained this, she left in a huff and was visibly angry. Once again, we were glad Saul was here to handle a situation that is better handled by a local person, and especially one who knows these local people so well.

Well, fast forward to this Friday, when our family and Saul went to the school for the weekly Bible class. The director of the school pulled Saul aside to explain that some of the children were forbidden by their parents to attend the class because it's being taught by a non-Catholic--an evangelical. Saul reminded the director that he never taught doctrinal issues, just basic Bible stories about God's love for all and the gift of His Son. The director said there would be a meeting of parents this coming week, in order to take a vote as to whether the classes would be stopped or would continue. As it turns out, the "parent" who started this is the same woman who didn't get that blanket.

I've told you before about this Bible class. It's such a great way to share the Gospel with these children, and the kids just love it. Saul speaks to them in Guarani and they are coloring pictures, memorizing verses, and learning about a God who knows them each by name. Many people here, even the adults, will tell you they are Catholic but have very little if any knowledge of the Bible, basic Bible stories, or concepts about the Lord. It's merely a label they give themselves because their parents were Catholic, and their parents before them. But the classes are a chance to step into the next generation and teach them about having a relationship with their loving Father.

We really need your prayers on behalf of the class, and the community. We regularly need discernment and wisdom on decisions we make here, and how best to go about "doing what we do." Please join us in asking God for a good result of this upcoming parents' meeting, and for His perfect will concerning the school and the precious children.

I don't pretend to understand all the things going on here politically, but there's always something in the air. We've gotten used to scandals involving scantilly-clad women and politicians (plastered on front pages with or without their clothing), jokes about the former-priest turned president who appears to have fathered a lot of children, and demonstrations/strikes near government buildings. We even had a run of bombs every day for a few weeks or so. Most of this has remained at a distance.

Today, however, we drove into town and found that the campesinos sin techos ("country people/peasants without roofs") have camped out here in Carapegua. These families move into a public place, on the side of the road, or on someone's private property, to just camp out in a large group and make a statement. They remind me of a gypsy village--little fires with food cooking, folks sitting around under tarps, rolled up blankets.... If I'm understanding correctly, they ask for the government to give them land because they are poor and need it. However, we're told that most of these people already have their own land, and when the government gives in and "gifts" them with more, they sell the new land and keep the cash. Pretty smart, huh? In the pictures that follow, you'll see a sign that says "Paraguari (that's our district) National Peasant Federation, The fight continues, we will conquer!" Ken thinks it's funny that squatters are organized enough to have a federation.

PS--A local friend here translated the word campesino more as "redneck." So the sign would more aptly read, "National Redneck Federation." I'm feeling right at home!

Thank you, Thomas Nelson Publishing, for another free book. Living here in another continent means I don't get them as quickly as their normal blogging crew, but I enjoy them nonetheless when they arrive! This one is called the rivers run dry, by Sibella Giorello. Thankfully, Paraguay provided me with a couple rainy days, when the third-world shuts down and everyone curls up with a blanket and a good book. Well, not everyone, but I sure did!

This book was a mystery of sorts, with a very believable heroine named Raleigh Harmon. I identified with Raleigh on several points, not the least of which was as a Southern woman displaced from her cultural roots. The plot of this twister unfolded slowly enough to keep me guessing, but not so slowly that I got bored. Raleigh is an FBI agent working on a couple of criminal cases and her own personal woes, all the while adjusting to a new life far from home.

I liked how real Raleigh seemed, with flaws and skeletons in the closet, and how the story told in the first person revealed Raleigh's personality and point-of-view. I also liked how the plot developed in an unpredictable way. I had some clues to the bad guys, but not too early, and not as a definite thing.

This is classified as Christian fiction, but Raleigh's faith isn't an overt thing. No one's throwing a lot of religious cliches around or acting holier-than-thou, which I appreciated. I got the feeling that the main character's faith stabilized her often chaotic life, but I never had to read those words, per se. This is apparently the second novel with the same Raleigh Harmon, so hopefully there are more to come. Any of you southern belles get a chance, spend a couple rainy days with this one!

We delivered the first set of family photos to our neighbors a few days ago. What fun! When Ken snapped these shots, he wasn't exactly able to "pose" the people like we'd normally think of as a family portrait. Despite that we'd put the word out about the project, most of the adults were very skeptical and didn't understand what we were doing or why. Several thought we were doing a project on poverty and would use their photos in textbooks. So once they agreed to allow the pictures (usually a little reluctantly), Ken just started snapping and took what he could get. I really love the natural setting of the photos, though, and think it reflects the actual family life of these beautiful people.

We found some inexpensive frames and were glad to put the best shot of each family inside it for more protection. We just gave them the other ones as loose photos. We realized while handing these out that some of these people didn't know what they looked like. At one group of "houses" in particular, there are maybe five or six families living in rows of what we'd call lean-to's. All ages of women and children came out to see why we were there, and when we showed them the pictures, we pointed out who was who. We were just doing that because we don't speak much Guarani, and pointing is sort of a universal language. But then it hit us that they didn't know who they were if we didn't tell them. As others came up, one would say to the other, "They said this is me, and that looks like you!" Each of them looked at the picture, looked at us like they didn't believe it, and then touched their faces, like they were trying to determine if that was the case or we were pulling a fast one.

One of our favorites is the family where the man is shirtless with his tools. He was quite proud to take the photo, and he insisted on holding his machete and ax for it. The families still didn't get that we were GIVING them the photos until we walked away. I guess that's when the idea of what was happening clicked, and they were all excited to have the pictures. It was great to watch the ladies giggling and pointing to each other and their kids. One lady walked to our house the next day to give us a bag of fruit. :) (Pictures below)

In defense of this country, we've found MANY honest people here and are thrilled most of the time with the level of friendliness and customer service in the business community. I think the guy in our story would be operating this way no matter what his country, so don't take this as a bash on Paraguay.

We bought a really neat SUV a few days after arriving, and have been happy overall with it. It's needed some mechanical fixes (it's 14 years old, after all) and odd-and-end things here and there, but it fits the bill. It's four-by-four (necessary to get down our dirt roads when it rains), has a third row of moveable seats (useful when hauling visitors, youth, or cargo), and is rugged enough to handle the bouncy, dusty roads we live down.

HOWEVER, we've been awaiting the legal paperwork for this vehicle since getting here. That'd be 7 1/2 months now. The salesman assured us the paperwork was all clean and ready to go, but that it'd take a few days longer than normal because of a strike taking place at the time. To be honest, we didn't know anything about a strike, but I can't say we were actually watching the news that first week either. He said we were fine to drive on the bill of sale until the papers came through, within a few weeks. He's said at least a million times, "This is how it works in Paraguay. You just aren't used to our form of business."

Fast forward to this week, almost 8 months later. I can't count on both hands or my toes, the times we've driven the 4-hr roundtrip to pick up these papers, only to find out they AREN'T ready. I can say that I've learned to understand Spanish better on the phone, as a result of all the calls back and forth over the situation these past months. And we've learned legal terms we might not have learned otherwise..... is that enough silver lining?

To make a L..O..N..G story shorter, we arrived at the car dealership owner's office today with a Paraguayan friend. Of course, the owner wasn't in for the day, despite telling us last Thursday to come today for the papers that WOULD be signed and ready to go. After a few phone calls to track him down, he acted quite ugly with our friend, then told us (again) that the papers were in the notary's office. We decided to visit this notary, who made it all clear for us.

As it turns out, our friendly neighborhood used car salesman took our money, issued us a bill of sale, and neglected to use the money to pay off the lien on the car (which he said did not exist). So the notary was quite unhappy to hear that he'd been blaming HER for all his shenanigans, all the while neglecting to tell us that the car owner still had payments remaining on the vehicle, and that the title was not clear.

Supposedly, this is being handled (can we really believe him NOW?) and we'll have our papers soon. Please help us pray about the situation. I've left out the problems it's caused more than once with the police here on their routine traffic stops, but we're ready for this part of our move to Paraguay to be a silly story we laugh about over terere. Today, I'm not laughing....

Saturday we were invited to visit the home of one of the school teachers. Professor Nildo lives near a big lake, and being a lowstate girl, I was just TOO excited at the possibility of finding a lake nearby. After about a trillion miles of rough dirt roads, we came to an area marked by large signs as a tourist center. It mapped out a picnic area, an island, a place for camping, and bike/boat rentals. Yippee!

I started in on stories of my childhood on Coon Island, and how cool Lake Moultrie is. We all got hyped up about renting a canoe and paddling out to this little island for the picnic we'd planned. The map showed just a little bit of land and a whole lot of water surrounding it, and from the "you are here" arrow, we seemed pretty close. The road dead-ended out of nowhere in a man's front yard, marked off by a cow fence. We found a handwritten "PARKING" sign with a price for motorcycles and a price for autos. Saul jumped out to ask for details. We were still looking for the lake. Surely it had to be close.

After talking with the man who came to the gate, Saul laughed a good bit and came back to the car to fill us in. As it turned out, we should have stopped at the first sign and paid the people at that house to enter further. Then we needed to pay to park, then we needed to pay to have access to the lake area. OH! Those woods in front of us ARE the lake? Apparently, the lake is bordered on one side by swamp land, and that happened to be the side we were on. So we decided not to pay to look at the swamp, as we'd just driven past miles and miles of it to get to the end of this road. (SIDENOTE: Have I ever told you that it took years for Ken to stop laughing about the title I had in my senior year of high school, "Miss Swamp Fox"? The fox happened to be our school mascot, and we lived in the middle of the Swamp Fox National Forest, hence the title. After all the talk about my childhood memories from Lake Moultrie, and then finding this to be a day at the swamp, the gears shifted quickly to lighthearted jabs about my memories of the swamp...)

We U-turned and stopped along the drive back to sip some terere and check out the cows wading through the muck and mire. I guess they were happy in light of all the drought we'd had, but watching them eat slimy vegetation and drink the water was pretty gross. We were told this is the area for crocodiles (a smaller version than you're imagining, but crocodiles nonetheless). Luckily for Bessie and her four-footed companions, the crocodiles didn't seem to be in the mood for beef that day.
Those tiny dots in the background are our cow friends.

What's a gorra? Well, if I tell you that, I'll have to tell you what a bufanda is, too. Gorras are the fleece or knit-style hats that slide down on your head in the winter, and the bufanda is the scarf. This week, we had the sheer joy of handing out the ones sent to us by our friends in Ciudad del Este. It's great to drive through the barrio or see children walking past the house and recognize the fleece hats and scarves they're wearing.

Thanks, again, to the wonderful Christian widow who made these, and to Jamie and Marion who shared them with our community in Arazaty. I'll skip the paragraphs of telling you how great it was to wrap up the kids at the school and in the neighborhood in these soft, warm things, and just show you the pictures instead....


Two of the teachers getting involved in the fleece fun. Saul is in the background. These two teachers happen to be brothers--can't you tell?

The group to the left is the afternoon session of students. The morning session is in the mix below, a little larger group.

Saturday night was the weekly youth group meeting. Normally, we play a few games of volleyball and watch a movie, with a short talk about a scripture related to the movie. This weekend, we wanted to shake things up a bit. Instead of meeting in the dining hall of the campground, we gathered in our home. Twenty people crammed in for popcorn, UNO games, a 30-minute movie clip, and a special guest speaker.

Samuel is one of the young men who lives nextdoor in the Children's Home. He is 14, intelligent, and sometimes a bit moody (by his own admission). In one of our "chats" with him about this personality quirk, we talked about joy, and how it should come from the inside of a Christian. We talked about good habits like daily Bible reading and prayer. I told him I was studying 1 John this month, and encouraged him to do the same. The next morning, he said he'd read the whole book the night before and was working through it again! He came over to work through 1 John several times (that's what's happening in the pic below). One of these times, we asked him if he'd be comfortable sharing what he was learning at the next youth night. Of course, he said he would NOT be comfortable, so we said, "GREAT! Be ready to do it then!"
Well, what do you know? He came to the meeting with Bible in hand. He read a few verses and presented a very clear explanation to the youth, many of whom don't ever come to church and were probably hearing these words for the first time. He read that we are all sinners and have an advocate through Jesus Christ, then proceded to explain how this takes place.

We had a bonfire outside afterward (well, it was in a washpot, but it was still a fire...), which provided the opportunity for more casual discussion of what had been said. We are so proud of Samuel for his boldness, and trusting that God used that time to continue the work He's begun in these young men and ladies. Thank you for your continued prayers for our youth!

Thanks, Camille, for filling in for me while I was not feeling well. We've taken turns passing around some sort of "cold" that probably comes from all this weather changing. They say it's normal here to have days of biting cold followed by really warm temperatures, then cycling again. Sounds like South Carolina, huh? It seems we've fallen into a rhythm now of days in the 60's or 70's, and nippy temperatures when the sun goes down. So we wake up pretty chilly but thaw out during the daytime. Not too bad so far!

Last weekend was the 32nd Paraguayan National Convention of the Church of God of Prophecy. We spent the weekend enjoying the fellowship of brothers and sisters from across this country and a few neighboring countries, as well. The music was a great mix of praise and worship in Guarani and in Spanish. The sermons (mostly in Spanish) were encouraging and lifted the spirits of all present. The theme was "Knowing the Times," so all were encouraged to recognize the present situations in this physical world, but to focus on the harvest ripe in the spiritual realm. We had a great time meeting people and getting a feel for the atmosphere in our church here.

The last evening, Caroline couldn't make it due to stomach illness. My mom stayed with her at the hotel. Camille, our little social butterfly, really wanted to be at the service with us so as not to miss a THING that was going on. I was a little worried about Caroline and my mom them alone in a less-than-desirable neighborhood, but it seems Caroline held her own. She decided she could eat a little something and proceeded to call down to the restaurant several times to get details about what they had and when they were open. (If you've never tried it, it's a little more difficult to understand a foreign language over the phone.) I was quite proud of her for being Nana's translator in our absence.

Monday morning, we took my mom to the airport and reluctantly sent her own her way back home. She was able to "do what we do" for a couple weeks, accompanying us on house visits, to the school, on youth nights, hosting the neighbors, exploring new terrain, the whole sha-bang. And still she left in one piece. She's tougher than she looks!
Here we are at the home of the pastor of the Cerro Cora church, not too far from Carapegua. From left, Ken, Saul, the Pastor Lucio Fretes, Caroline, and Nana.

Mom is itching to blog about the convention and our past week, but she's in the bed sick. I thought I'd help her out and tell you what I (Camille) like about being an MK--Missionaries' Kid.

1. I meet a lot of friendly people of all ages. I am a very outgoing person so I don't mind when strangers stop us to talk, which seems to happen all the time here.

2. I have the chance to travel to new places. I have seen a lot of landmarks and cool things. All kinds of history and interesting facts are everywhere. I get to have a privaledge not many kids do--exploring outside of my own country.

3. I can learn a new language. I like to know new things and share them with other people. When I learn a language like Spanish, I end up knowing about English. What's cool about Guarani is it's basically exclusive to Paraguay, so learning it is like gaining entrance to a special club.

4. I get to share God's love with everyone else and THAT'S what's important. His everlasting love and mercy is with me wherever I go and in whatever I do!!

Today (Sunday) we are at the National Convention for Paraguay. I'm used to saying State Convention and International Assembly, so it's still difficult for me to get that phrase out correctly. I'll tell you about how the Convention went later, but for now, let's continue the story of our little trip to Encarnacion.

We got up the morning after our jaunt into Argentina, ready to make our way back. We rode through several towns with museums for the Jesuit reductions (read about that famous piece of Paraguayan history here) and decided we'd come back one day and look at the larger ruins. This day, we wanted to hang around the southern border, seeing the nature preserve built to house the animals displaced from building the Yacyreta Dam.

We had no idea that this would entail over 40 km of dirt/rock roads. My poor mother in that back seat! At least the front seats of our SUV have a type of shock system, which allows them to bounce. I guess I should have stopped and insisted she get in the front, but I was too busy holding on for dear life. This is the type of driving Ken's dreams are made of, so it was like a rally race for him. Dodging mudholes, large rocks, and ruts, we bopped along at breakneck speed for what seemed like a whole morning, but was actually less than one hour. We never saw any wildlife in the preserve except the birds, which were plentiful. Oh, wait--maybe the blur in that passing tree was a monkey. SLOW DOWN!

We knew we were almost done when we saw cattle, because this signified someone's house was nearby. Near the end of the rough road, we found where the animals were kept. I'd misread the blurb about the animal park and thought they were running wild along the side of the dirt road. So why the long road? I guess they want you to appreciate the animals by the time you arrive.

We zipped in the front gate quickly because a whole lot of ostriches (emus?) were running wild in the place, and we sure didn't want to be party to an escape. The owner of the place took us on a tour, and we were totally impressed. Our friend Eric has made me more sensitive to the sadness of animals in cages, but I was uplifted a bit when the guide explained that this was his life's work. He's been laboring the past 20 years to ensure that these animals aren't made extinct from the encroachments in their habitats and the hunting. I didn't mention to him when we looked at the deer, that Ken has been itching to put one in our freezer.

The "zoo" was remarkably clean, well-kept, and looked right comfortable for the animals. The owner proudly told of how they'd been breeding many of the animals to keep their species alive. Several were just running wild within the hundreds of acres of beautiful wooded and grassy land. We saw HUGE anteaters (called a bear of ants), pumas, leopards/jaguars, tons of birds, wild pigs, and much more. This free park is definitely something I'd recommend if you're in the area. Pictures below...

The girls and Nana had never been to Argentina, and we hated to be that close and NOT go. Not to mention, I'd read online that Posadas was the home of a big Wal-Mart sort of store. We knew that the paperwork for our SUV wasn't stellar (that's an entirely different story), and we were told by the dealer that we wouldn't be allowed to leave the country until he got us the proper paperwork. Worth a shot, though, right?

We were so excited when the officials whisked us right out of Paraguay, until we realized that didn't guarantee entrance on the other side of the bridge into Argentina. We drove over the beautiful bridge all giddy about "getting out" of one country so easily, until we got to the line of cars trying to get into the next. Oh, so THIS is the hard part...
The lady checking our passports smiled and sent us on our way, which was straight into the path of the man checking the vehicles. He looked inside ours, checked in the back trunk part, and then asked for the paperwork. Uh oh. While Ken was digging it all out, I began to ask the man some touristy sorts of questions. Something we've learned about South Americans is that they are generally proud of their home country, and they love to tell foreigners of its benefits. So this man looked at my map, pointed out some high points, answered all the questions I kept posing, and sent us on our merry way. He'd gotten so involved in being a tour guide that he forgot to look at our papers. I've been saying for years that THERE ARE BENEFITS to having talkative women around.
We thanked God for His help, and immediately ran down the Wal-Mart knock off. The store was called "Libertad," and except for the generic brands not saying Sam's Choice, you'd never have known it wasn't a real Wal-Mart. WHAT FUN! We didn't actually buy much of anything, but it's just neat to be somewhere that feels like home, even if we did have to continually wrap our brains around their money unit, the peso. We met more hippies, talked with some nice "regular" folks, and enjoyed exploring the town. Below is another view of the bridge from Argentina this time, but I didn't take many other pictures. I spent the day navigating with my little street map, while Ken drove us here and there. While it was nice, we all felt better when they let us back into Paraguay and we were back on familiar soil. Good to be home!

Monday morning, we drove about 3 1/2 hours out to Encarnacion, a lovely city on the border of Argentina. What a nice drive, and a chance to see more of this beautiful country! The small towns here all seem to specialize in something, so we drove out of Carapegua (home of hammocks, blankets, and tablecloths), through the town of soccer balls, one of cattle stalls, another of sheep's wool, and a few more we didn't readily identify. You know what the specialty is by whatever happens to be hanging over or lining the sidewalks on the main road. Our favorite was the wool town, since all their hanging goods looked very warm and fluffy.

We made it into Encarnacion just in time for lunch, and the city did not disappoint. We were told that the plan (sometime in the near or distant future--who really knows?) is to make the city a sort of island, only accessible by the eight bridges currently being built as connectors. The lower section of the town that runs along the impressive Parana River will then be underwater. For now, that area is full of vendors and street people. You know I just can't resist the hippies, so we met some of the most interesting people there. I have to admit that the song Jack Black wrote for the nun of the same name in Nacho Libre is STILL ringing in my ears. Every time someone said, "Encarnacion" in a sentence, at least one of us broke in with "Encarnaci-oh-oh-oh-oh-on!"

Anyway.....we were so thrilled that the (cheap but adequate) hotel we found had an air conditioning unit with a heat setting. Poor Ken. He was outnumbered by us women, so he had to endure the sauna we created to combat the cold outside. Encarnacion is "way down south," so it's the coldest. I still find it funny that the further south you go the colder it gets. When we woke up one morning, it was 1* celsius. BRRR! Camille quickly bought a puffy winter coat (thanks, Granny!) and Caroline stayed snuggled up with Nana.

Here are a few pics of the day. Tomorrow I'll tell you about our jaunt over the border into Argentina, and then about the really neat Reserve we found near a big dam. The first picture below is of the flags of Argentina and Paraguay, which fly together near the bridge that crosses the border.

This is the view from our hotel window. We were in a "not so pretty" part of town, but you can see Posadas, Argentina over the river. At night it lit up nicely!

The blog has been really quiet for the last little while. I hope y'all didn't think the ants came back and ate us! No, we're all fine, just COLD! Let me say that again, C O L D!! This weekend, Lord willing, we will be buying a small plug-in heater (maybe two) to at least try to knock the chill off. We cranked up our gas stove this morning and all sat around it to "survive" the morning cold.

So what's been going on here other than the weather extremes? We spent almost all of last week confined to the house because of the cold and the rain. The rain was really needed but came SO MUCH, SO FAST, and created a few problems. I told you about our ant fun, but there were many other homes that were invaded by the rising water. One community we read about had to evacuate over 200 families due to the unsafe conditions of their homes from the water level. Now, I've seen some really unsafe conditions that occur as "normal" here, so for the government to tell these people that they should evacuate, it must have been pretty bad.

We weathered it well, though (haha, no pun intended), and even ventured out a couple times--had to make grocery runs, you know! It reminded me of traveling on Christmas, when every store is closed and the roads are empty. We had the town to ourselves. Thankfully, the grocery store remained open, although it didn't seem worth their while. One lady told me that all of Paraguay sleeps when the rains come. I considered that one long and hard. ;)

When the weather cleared up a bit, we decided to take a little sightseeing trip while my mom's here. I'll be telling you about the wonderful things we saw over the next few days, including pictures. For now, I'll leave you with a shot from last night, when we huddled around a fire with our neighbors, showing them how to roast marshmallows. Francisco said he'd seen something like that before, and the Guarani word for it was toad spit (because marshmallows look like the foamy white stuff on the water near a toad's home). Go figure.


Gladys reaches for another toadspit, while her hubby Francisco tries to decide if he wants to kiss or eat his marshmallow!