Yesterday was the official First Day of School for the children here, so as you can imagine, there was quite a bit of excitement. Samuel, who is 13, came home to tell me he was the only boy in his class today. He's hoping some of his guy buddies show up soon, because he didn't like that at all.

Since the weather had cooled off from the rains (85* today), Ken and Fredy decided to take a fishing trip. They loaded up Samuel and Anival (the guy who rode bikes with me to the milk lady's house), along with the house dad and some gear. Along the way they picked up a couple more fellas and loaded the SUV down.

It rained off and on the whole time they were gone, but I guess when you're "men," those sorts of things don't interfere with a good fishing trip. They took along a shovel and dug their own worms. It worked out well for the young guys to be able to spend time with the men and cap off their first morning of school. Here, students either go to morning or to afternoon classes, but everyone's home for lunch. Pray for them as they begin a new school year and face the challenges ahead. They are smart children and work hard in their studies, partially due to a great incentive program that's been offered to them. It's exciting to know that these boys and girls have the opportunity to receive an education and are given the time to devote to their homework and studying.

We've found some fun things on our front porch the last few days. Ken ran across a giant spider web, which looked like it was made of thick yellow yarn.



Then Camille heard some rustling in the shrub beside our porch. When she moved the limbs back a bit, she found two brand new birds sitting in a tiny nest.



On the back porch is our hammock, which I sit in every chance I get. My friend, the lizard, often walks around on the ground underneath me, unless I make a noise that alerts him I'm there.



Today when I got up from the hammock, I found that the kitten from next door was sitting in my shoes. (No picture, as I really don't like cats. We tolerate this one and her mommy because they're good for keeping bugs/rats/snakes away, but I don't ever let them cuddle me or climb inside my shoes!!) PS--Don't click below. Short one today.

The youth rally hosted by community churches and a mission agency here in Paraguay was a success. It took place this past Saturday night, in a soccer field at the edge of the town of Carapegua. There seemed to be a lot of local people just "dropping in," including the drunk man who honed in on me and commenced a yelling fest in slurred speech and unintelligible phrases. How do those folks find me in a crowd? Never fails. ANYWAY, our youth group did an awesome job on their drama presentation. The crowd "got it" and responded well. I wanted to share a video of them performing it with you, but it was too dark. After the Gospel presentation, several people made commitments to the Lord! Thanks for the prayers. I can't share all of what God's doing for the sake of people's privacy, but He's up to good things here!

On a personal note, please pray for our younger daughter, Caroline. She's just turned ten this past December. You can see from these pictures that every house we visit, she finds the pets right away. She's doing very well at learning the language and making friends, but is struggling a little lately. I really didn't think much about what they call "culture shock" before we got here, but I've learned it's very real, and it's not what you'd expect. I was the first to be hit--should I say SLAMMED--by it, and had a really tough time. Ken had a couple weeks of the not-so-fun times, too. A little different manifestation with his turn, but he has been doing well and is moving past it pretty quickly. Caroline has just started with her version of it.
Where Camille and I live on social interaction (even at my WORST, I felt best when I could get around a bunch of people), Caroline gets overwhelmed sometimes by crowds and loud noise. She's sensitive and sweet and prefers cuddling up somewhere with a book or playing with a friend or two at a time. This past week, she started showing some of the signs that she may be past what is termed "the honeymoon period" of moving to the mission field, and stepping into a bit of her own culture shock. Nightmares (one hot night she dreamed she was in a fire), wanting to be by my side anytime we leave the house, clinging to me in public, wanting us to lie down with her at night and hold her a lot during the day, a general crabbiness and inability to be satisfied, a little change in her diet, ...this sort of thing. Needless to say, Saturday night was a little much for her. She stretched way out of her comfort zone and chose to stay for the youth rally, though, and was very proud of herself afterward. She's come to view the adults we work with as aunts and uncles, acting a bit clingy with them if we're not immediately around. I see that as a good sign. She also has enjoyed spending time with our new MK, Abi (2 1/2 years old), who calls Caroline her sister already. Caroline's a tough gal, but she's still my baby, so please pray for God to hold her closely while she walks through this time of adjustment. And pray that Camille just avoids it altogether! ;) We really appreciate your prayer support.

We had a little running around to do after church today and took some local friends with us. One of them told us about a "hill with a blue lake" nearby one of our stops, so we detoured for a bit. This turned out to be a rock quarry. It's so special because the lakes and "swimming holes" here are too dirty to really swim in, but this was beautiful bluish-green water. I suspect it had something to do with the 150-ft depth and the rocky bottom. We carefully hiked up and down the really high cliffs surrounding the water. Since the girls were with us, each of the fellas took turns walking in front or behind of us gals to keep us from sliding into infinity. I was the only one who came close, but Fredy caught my wrist before I skidded too far. The cliffs were so high and had a spectacular 360* view. We were thankful that Saul went to the trouble to bring the terere along, once we spent about an hour climbing in the 110* heat. Click for pictures...

Ken spent the day Friday replacing our torn screens, since we've had a kitten trying to come in as often as she can recently. It'll cut down on the mosquitos, which have really multiplied here lately, and also give us the opportunity to keep the doors open later into the night, which helps with the heat inside. While he was working, Saul was ever-present to lend a hand or get in the way, however you look at it. In this picture, it's about 300* F (okay, more like 100*), Ken's drenched in sweat, and Saul--the local evangelist--is doing whatever he can to keep the mood light. I don't know if Ken appreciated his antics, but the rest of us enjoyed the show. (Don't click below... short post)

Something I've come to tolerate is the trip to the grocery store. This is typically the place where I am most overwhelmed, for various reasons. First of all, I am by nature a comparison shopper. I can't get past my compulsion to break the prices down into what I'm paying per unit, in order to find the "best deal." This seems easy enough at Bi-Lo, where they've posted the price per ounce, or per cookie, or whatever. Here, it means I'm spending a lot of time with my little handy calculator.

There is also the difference in currency. If something is $2.50, the pricetag here reads 12,625 Gs. It's so hard to hand over that paper bill that reads 100,000, and I'm constantly reminding myself that 100,000 guaranis = $20, to avoid the impending heart attack when the cash register gal tells me my total.

I am getting better at speaking and understanding Spanish, but food is a whole different thing. There isn't always a picture on the package, and sometimes the pictures are deceiving. And things can have a million different names. Many of the grocery items are imported from Brazil, so those packages are written in Portuguese. It's enough to make someone (me) a bit confused.

Couple those things I just mentioned with the fact that this is also still new to my daughters, and you have a mental meltdown in the making. Our girls have never been ones to try to talk me into candy at the counter or crazy stuff on the aisles (I have a low tolerance for whining, so we nipped that long ago), but they are amazed at all the strange things they find here (like freaky looking fruits and cans of weird stuff near the jelly). Or they find something familiar but rare here and are amazed that it's available in that particular store (like canned green beans, Caroline's fave veggie). Or they find something gross (like pig heads or cow tongues) and have to share their discoveries. It's innocent enough, but in the middle of my attempt to decide if 400g of cereal for 10,275 is better than 350g for 9,992, it's enough to drive me crazy. Their daddy is great about walking the aisles with them to give me some "space," but sometimes we all end up together anyway.

Some things I've learned that help out a bit:

1. So what if 10,275 is better than 9,992? To me that seems like a big difference because we're always talking about money here in reference to THOUSANDS or MILLIONS of guaranis. But that difference equates to a nickel. Sometimes it's just easier to go with the brand we've found we like, whether it's 5 cents cheaper or not.

2. The goods made in Paraguay (vs. Argentina or Brazil) are lesser priced but sometimes lesser quality, it seems. I still prefer to buy the product made here b/c it helps the Paraguayan economy, and the package is in Spanish.

3. If I can get past my inhibitions about food out in the open, I can save a bundle by buying the bulk foods. Many things come in giant open trashcans with or without a plastic bag inside. A million varieties of breads/rolls/buns, flour, sugar, cookies, rice, beans, laundry detergent, pet foods, yerba for terere, pastas, and more. There are plastic bags nearby, which you take over to the bin, fill up using the big scoops, and then take over to the employee standing at the scale. She weighs your bag, prints out a price sticker, and sends you on your way. I get a bit nervous because it's all just sitting out in the open, with whatever bug wants to crawl in, having free reign to do so. I am getting less fru-fru about these things and if the store seems clean, I dig through the bin and scoop out my sugar. The pasta doesn't matter as much b/c it can be rinsed, and the laundry detergent doesn't matter at all. I haven't gotten my nerve up, though, to buy bulk from the store that has the slab of raw meat with its accompanying flies right by the bulk bins of flour and sugar. Mrs. Economical has to draw the line somewhere.

WE HAVE OUR MONTERO BACK!! And just in time. It's gotten very hot again, and I was missing the a/c and the space of our handy SUV. It seems the water pump had gone bad, and some things needed tightening/replacing in other areas. Thankfully, there was a warranty of sorts on our purchase, so this work was all done without any cost to us, except the gas back and forth to Asuncion. YAY!

This Saturday we will work with several other churches and mission groups at a community rally, entitled "No Excuses." It's an outreach event, geared to attract non-Christian youth with concerts and games. Later in the evening, the Gospel will be presented, and local youth and leaders will be standing by to pray with those who make a decision to come forth. Then we'll get information from them and follow up over the next few days after the event. Our youth here will be presenting a choreographed song with a powerful message about living for the world and what it offers vs. what it really pays. You can see a version of it by clicking here (DISCLAIMER: This is a video from another church, and not our kids. Keep in mind that anyone is allowed to post comments, therefore use caution in reading below the video...) Please pray for a spiritual harvest to come in Saturday. I'll let you know how it all turns out. (Short post, don't click below...)

Not to be outdone by a 12-year-old kid, I took a dare Saturday to ride Camille's bicycle alongside the young guy going to get our weekend supply of milk. Anibal normally rides his bike alone a few miles down our dirt road to the home of a lady with a milking cow, then carries the milk in a backpack for the return trip. This sounds simple enough, but it's often six to eight 2-liter bottles full of milk, and the trip back is all uphill. Really uphill.

I was seeing this as an answer to a selfish prayer I'd uttered earlier in the week. I had been missing the days of riding my faithful bicycle, Lulu, and mentioned to the Lord that I'd love to find a way to ride some. I never even considered Camille's bike, and how close she's getting to being my size (or how close I'm getting to being HER size--haha). I'm used to a road bike and safety gear and smooth pedaling--never had a thought about off-road, rugged terrain fun stuff as I experienced Saturday. But not wanting to miss a chance for an adventure, I took off in grand style and glided right into the sandy dirt-road, realizing it was going to be a battle not to let the slip and slide right out from under me. Have you ever tried to pedal in sand? Not easy, but it made for a lot of laughs--not just out of me and Anibal, but also from the neighbors.

I have to say that Anibal, who is one of the kids from the children's home next door, was quite chivalrous. He asked often if I was okay and needed to stop to rest or walk the bike. He warned me when we came to rough patches and directed me where to go when motorcycles approached. He refused to let me carry any of the milk, and he acted as a sort of human shield when the intoxicated men shouted "greetings" and the like, to me from their terere circle. I thanked him several times for his gentlemanly manner, and he told me that women are the princesses of the sky, and men must look out for them. Well, I don't know who taught him that, but good job!

On the ride back, we stopped at one point to walk our bikes up the long hill (at his request, which made me feel "not so old"). We were taking turns teaching each other English and Guarani when we met up with a man walking toward town. Before he walked past, he mentioned that his wife was at home resting, very weak from cancer. I asked his permission to visit with her and have prayer.

Anibal locked our bicycles to a nearby tree (mine first, because he said that ladies' things should always be more protected) and we trapsed through the cow field to the little home. The way you visit somewhere here is to announce your presence by clapping your hands before stepping onto their property. So at the gate, I clapped and she motioned for me to come closer to explain why we were there. Her suspicious look gave way to relief when I explained we'd met her husband and wanted to pray for her health. She invited us inside the gate, where we sat in her yard and talked for about a half hour, and prayed. After meeting some of her family, she asked me to return to pray with her again. That's worth some fancy pedaling in the sand. :)

This morning's visit to the hospital for my bloodwork didn't pan out like expected, but it had some fun moments. The hospital was REALLY crowded, with the line wrapping outside the door and onto the front patio, as today is the day for pregnancy ultrasounds. This was sad to me because the girls in line around me were so young, and some already carried small babies or young children. The lady at the window told me (after I waited forever in the line) to return tomorrow and I'd have a chance at getting an appointment again.

My handy friend Freddy accompanied me for his translation skills, which is where the fun came in. We're always teasing Freddy (recently turned 21) about finding a good Christian wife, so when we saw the long line, I told him to be on the lookout for a gal. He already knew what these girls were lining up for, so he didn't find my joke funny at all. I didn't get it until I read the signs inside the building.

Well, we had to drive the not-so-reliable Fiat--did I mention that it shuts off randomly, with no warning at all? It did that about a thousand times there and back, each time causing Freddy to cheer and make fun of me. I kept pointing out to him that it wasn't my faulty driving causing the problem. I finally just told him that the car was from the devil, and he agreed. I have to admit, the little car handled the giant mudholes on our road better than I expected. Some of them are so huge that I thought they'd swallow the little car and no one would know WHERE we disappeared to until the next dry spell, but the Fiat held its own.

Somewhere along the trip, Freddy decided he should maybe put on his seatbelt, but confessed he'd never used one before. I tried not to giggle as he looped it around his neck and through one arm. So I showed him how I was wearing mine. He managed to get his hooked up, then proceeded to tell me it was useless because it had so much slack. I don't have to tell you what I did next. Yep. I slammed on brakes in the middle of the road (I did look in the rearview mirror to be sure no one was behind me....) Then I explained that it only catches if the brakes are applied firmly. Freddy thought this was just the greatest thing and asked me to hit the brakes at least 5 more times before we got back home. Then he told me he'd like to learn to drive if we have time to teach him. I think I'd better defer that one to Ken, for Freddy's sake! ;)

The homeschool police are surely going to come hunt me down in the far reaches of this dirt-road to the Hagerman School of Fun and Soccer. I've been trying my best to keep up with their school schedule, but some days it seems so cruel to keep them inside with a loud, exciting game of soccer going on twenty feet from our front door, which, by the way, must remain open to let the air pass through. So today, after a few days of rain and much heat, I threw school to the wind and sent them outside. They'll be happy campers when they come in tonight, for sure. And just maybe the officials won't come after me this time!!

On another note, say a prayer for me tonight. I'm heading back for my follow-up blood tests at the hospital tomorrow morning. They're going to check glucose levels, blood pressure, iron, etc. I don't think they'll find anything more than what I've always known: I have to have food pretty regularly or I get weak, I need more chocolate than the average person, and my blood pressure is lower than most folks. I am hoping that the digestive problems I'm having are just because I'm getting accustomed to eating this Paraguayan food and not getting my recommended daily allowance of chocolate. And that I've only lost 15 pounds because it's hot here, not because I have a parasite. I can't stand the thought that something could be living in my stomach. Yuck. Let's change the subject now.

I heard a really funny reference here. I have mentioned before how different words mean different things in each country or area of South America, but one I've come to find quite hilarious is the reference to my children as creatures. I was looking at mattresses earlier this week and the salesman asked me if it was for me or for the "creaturas." I promptly told him that we don't allow creatures in our beds. I explained that we only use that word for animals, but to the locals, that's just weird. So every chance I get now, I'm calling the girls creaturas. Sometimes they actually live up to the name! :)

We trekked into the city yesterday for a full schedule of fun. The morning really WAS fun, since I attended a Bible study with some other English-speaking missionary women. We had a time of worship, prayer for our countries, prayer for each other's needs, and a study of Esther 3 (we're working our way through the book). It was good to be among friends and hang out in Brenda's lovely home again.

After running several other busines-type errands, we went to the car lot where we purchased our SUV. It's been having problems since we bought it, and the seller told us to give it a little more time and bring it back, since the motor is under warranty. The little car they loaned us in the meantime is a tiny doorstop called a Fiat.

I got an uneasy feeling when the owner of the car lot asked an employee something about the air conditioning, got a negative response, and then sent the employee in the Fiat down the road. He told us to come back in a half hour. I think the employee went for a cross country tour, because we got the car without a drop of gas in it (thankfully the Esso station was across the road) and with enough air conditioning to last about 10 minutes. The wires for the windows are apparently all crossed up, too, as Ken had to do minor surgery on the driverside door to get the windows to roll back up. Unfortunately, the car lot closed after we pulled off, and we were stuck with this little slice of joy. I just prayed we could make it home safely.

The normal two hour drive was lengthened quite a bit because the Fiat kept randomly shutting off while we were driving, without warning. After the five-thousandth time, Ken learned that turning the car off, taking the key out, and then re-cranking it would work. He became a pro at doing this without losing his spot in traffic, so that cut down on how many times we had to pull over.

Caroline fell asleep and ended up slumped down on her side of the car, so Camille spent much of the ride holding her sister's seat in the upright position. It wouldn't lock and the weight of Caroline leaning back on it was all that was holding it up. We thought about having them trade seats, but it seemed both sides had the same problem.

We had a lot of laughs at the mishaps of the little car and finally determined that the car lot owner's plan was probably this: "I won't fix the SUV, but I'll keep it for a few days and let them drive a really bad car, so that they'll appreciate theirs when they get it back. They won't mind that it uses too much oil or runs hot or doesn't have functioning turn signals when they remember how bad that little Fiat was." Ha, ha! That's our theory, anyway. I hope he proves us wrong and we have our own vehicle back soon. Until then, we are having fun looking like the those 50clowns at the circus all crammed into the tiny car. Every day's an adventure!

Tapé Mission Experience is the mission school we'll be starting this July. It's our primary objective for being here, so if you haven't checked it out yet, go on over to the website (click here). We're accepting applications now and hoping to have a great first term, which begins July 1 and ends December 18 (or June 23 if you choose the year-long term).

The name Tapé is actually the Guarani word for "path." We see the school as a path for young adults to take towards their life-calling. We believe that EVERY Christian is called to live the Great Commission and take the Gospel into all the world. For some that means their own communities, for other it means across the globe. The premise of the school is a focus on hands-on training that will equip the student for ministry either back at home or overseas in a cross-cultural setting.

The students will stay here for either 6 months or a year, and participate in the ministries already in operation under Paraguay Missions. That includes church planting/house churches, camps, retreats, evangelism, children's homes, youth work, and more. We'll also have a classroom component, learning things like culture, finances, language, leadership, etc.

Because this is taking place here in South America, the cost per student is very low. The monthly $350 tuition provides each student with lodging, food, local travel, phone/internet usage, ministry and classroom expense, and extra trips. So send your favorite young adult over to www.tapemissions.org to fill out an application, and keep us in your prayers as we continue to get everything ready for our first group of students!

Ladies' Retreat was here this weekend and I didn't quite make it over there EVEN ONCE! I hope the ladies who had asked me beforehand if I'd be there don't think I lied to them, as it was my intention to be there. Sometimes life just gets in the way.

Friday, it just boils down to "My family needed me." We'd gotten a little behind on our school paperwork. The end of the first semester should have been sometime in December, and it ended up being more like January 14. That means I SHOULD have tallied grades and gotten the report cards done then, but that happened Thursday and Friday instead. Caroline was still pretty painful in that wrist and needed help with her basic daily tasks. Camille needed some help with her schoolwork and a little "encouragement" to have a cheerful attitude. Ken needed a little time to do some tasks he'd been procrastinating. The groceries were running low and we needed a few basic supplies from town. When you add all that up, I never made it over to Ladies' Retreat.

Saturday, I didn't expect to go to Retreat because the day was devoted to THE MORTONS! YAY! Their flight landed right on time in Asuncion, and we got them and their luggage without a hitch. Their precious little 2 1/2 year old daughter was such a champ, after practically a day and a half of cars and airports and travel fun. Once we got them back to their new home, she played with Caroline all day while the rest of us cleaned and prepared the Mortons' house. We're all so excited that they're here! They'll be overseeing the children's homes in Itaugua, so we're getting a regular "team" of North Americans here in Paraguay! They blog, also, so you can read their updates here.

Saturday night I was a bit under the weather and ended up sleeping till mid-morning (thanks, Ken!) We spent the afternoon working on the missions school that we'll be opening July 6. I'll be blogging about the school tomorrow, so check back! Well, how was YOUR weekend?

Ever have one of those days? One of those weekends? I told you about all the fun we had Saturday, and Sunday was no less eventful. We had a special guest speaker, a pastor from a church in Asuncion, who came to preach and then stay over for a small camp. He shared about his childhood in poverty, and a lesson from the life story of Joseph. This really hit home with these children who have been separated from their families, too, to live in an entirely different setting. As we closed in prayer, he looked up at Ken and me, called us by name, and said God saw the hardships we'd been facing and was placing a large shield over our family. Wow! Who doesn't want to hear that sort of message? For a man who knew nothing about us, he read our book.

That evening, Ken and the girls were playing soccer outside when I heard the front door slam. Ken was calling for me and Caroline was crying hysterically. Twenty minutes of applied ice-pack later, we decided to make the trip to the now familiar emergency room in Carapegua. Caroline was very nervous, and I was quite sure she'd broken one of the major bones in her lower arm. It was knotted up and she complained of sharp pain, and any movement of her hand or wrist had her screaming. Ken gathered us for prayer before she and I and our translator Fredy loaded up.

Imagine my thrill (and Caroline's, as well) to find out that the doctor on duty that night in the tiny little clinic-type hospital was a very intelligent young surgeon who spoke English and seemed thrilled for the chance to practice it with us. He was SO friendly, but it was obvious he thought the same thing I did--a sure break. He sent us right away for an x-ray, and we learned that the bones of the wrist had shifted from their place but were back where they should be again. Small cracks in those tiny wrist bones showed up very plainly in the x-ray, but the long bones were intact. Praise God!

He wrapped her wrist, hand, and forearm, explained to me that this would be very painful for a good while, and gave us an Advil/ice regimen. He actually told us that she'd need to have as much Advil as she could for the next three years. I asked in Spanish if he really meant years and he laughed and corrected his English. He gave us strict instructions to keep it wrapped and limit mobility as much as possible. She's complaining about the pain and hasn't quite figured out how to do things one-handed, but Caroline is quite happy that she doesn't have a hard cast in this wretched hot weather. She'd appreciate your prayers for the pain and for a proper healing.

The next morning (Monday), we headed into Asuncion to start the paperwork for renewing our visas. We realized on the way there that we probably didn't have enough gas for the whole trip, so we stopped off part of the way in for a bit of diesel. We were talking, and Ken forgot to turn the lights on when we started back up. That's a big no-no here, and we were stopped at one of the handy check-points that are set up along the route into the city. After refusing to pay the bribes the policeman kept insisting on, we were on our way again, complete with a hefty traffic ticket and instructions to pay it within the week so we could have our paperwork returned to us.

Back on the road to the capital. We found out that there was a chance we wouldn't have to pay for our renewal, since Ken and I got our passports stamped coming back into the country from Argentina, with a new three-month date on them. We'd packed clothes in case we could cross the border again and do the same for the girls. It would have worked out to be more cost effective to drive over to Argentina and spend the night in a hotel, rather than pay for the renewals. Not to mention we'd be exploring a new city in a country Camille and Caroline had never been to. Despite that each government employee we asked gave us a different answer, it seemed the only thing to do after all was to pay to renew all four of them. And I was so looking forward to a night in an air-conditioned hotel!

We took care of some other business while there in the city, and met up with a friend to retrieve a package from home. A visiting friend of a friend carried a care package for us in her luggage and after passing it through several hands, we got a couple bags of goodies, including pop-tarts, my silverware, and a few books. We got back in the toasty car to find out the air conditioning had ceased to operate. Nothing like rolling around in 100* weather with no air.

Leaving there, we went to try to pay the traffic ticket, only to be told it was too late in the day. We headed to Itagua, where we planned to spend the night with the Millers, get up the next day and go back to the capital to pay the ticket (their house is much closer than ours to Asuncion), and then spend the rest of that day preparing a house for the Mortons, who arrive Saturday to live here. When we got to the Millers' home, we found they'd been out of electricity and water for quite some time, and they didn't need the added inconvenience of our family piling in for the night.

We waited out a massive thunderstorm and started making our way back home, to Carapegua. It was already after dark by then and the girls were falling asleep in the backseat. Good thing, because we went through a lot of rough patches, where we could not see the road for all the flooding. Control freak that I am, I wasn't cool with that at all. Ken bravely plowed right through it, reminding me that "This is why we have an SUV." I just kept a tight grip on the armrest.

Not too far into the ride, Ken noticed that the truck was running hot. We stopped several times to give it a chance to cool, we turned on the heat at full blast, we prayed. At that point, I just wanted to laugh at our day. Ken did not. Ever the gentleman, he locked us in the truck, got out in the rain, and released the thingy under the hood that you have to be careful with lest you get burned by the steam. Yep, you know what thingy I'm talking about. And yes, he did wait a while in the truck to let it cool off some first. I did mention it was dark and we were on a fairly remote stretch of highway, right? Anyway, when it was sufficiently cooled, he began to fill our water bottles over and over from water in a nearby ditch, until he thought he'd added enough to cool the engine down. We did eventually make it home.

In all that fun and the "other fun" that's been a regular part of our lives here lately, I still see that God is with us, and I feel His peace at times when peace makes no sense. I guess that's the peace that passes all understanding. It might not feel like we're being shielded sometimes, but I know we are, and I'm thankful that He is watching over us and conducting this crazy orchestra that is our life.

We had a long Saturday this past weekend. It started with a four-hour leadership training workshop offered here in Carapegua. This was hosted by several groups planning a city-wide outreach event focused on youth evangelism, to take place Feb 21. We learned a lot at the class, despite not being able to understand it all. After that, we went with our friend Fredy to visit his family.

Fredy is the 21-year-old maintenance worker here at the camp, who also happens to play guitar. He's taken it onto himself to come by our house at least two or three times a day, so we can "practice our Spanish" with him. He's also helping us learn some of the praise and worship courses sung most often here. We drove the twenty or so minutes out to his family's home and were greeted by his little sister, two of his brothers, his sister, and both parents. We walked up the dirt road to see the creek winding near his house. I noticed a small house near where we'd come in and asked if we could stop by to visit. The lady of the home only spoke Guarani, so Fredy went ahead to ask if we'd be welcome. A tiny little lady of almost 91 years greeted us with a smile and said it had been a long time since she'd had visitors. She began to pull out chairs for us all. The one she sat in looked to be about 8 inches off the ground, at the most! We talked with her for a while, and she mentioned that she was having a hard time with the heat (a couple weeks ago, my thermometer read 116*). So we asked what we could do, and she said she'd like her floor swept. The Paraguayans are quite funny about their floors, most doing a full cleaning of their house, porch, and dirt yard every morning. A whole lot of mopping going on! So Fredy's sister, Magdalen, and I set to work on her outside living area. I used the coolest broom, made of tying herb-type branches to the end of a stick. The onlookers thought I did a poor job with it and had Magdalen trade me for a more conventional sort of broom, made from straw. Fredy got the chance to play superhero when someone noticed a cow eating this dear lady's clothes off the nearby tree where they were drying. He rescued the undergarments, shooed away the cow, and returned the clothes to the thankful woman. What a fun visit!

When we got back to Fredy's house, we sipped terere for a while and talked his dad into playing us a tune on his harp. This is a short video, which just amazed me. (Fredy is sitting behind Ken.) This man is part of a Christian band that plays traditional Paraguayan music and sings mostly in Guarani. His song lasts a little over a minute, if you have time to listen. It's really pretty music.
After my OOOO! and AAAA! comments, he decided to teach me a tune. You can see it all right here.... (no laughing please) The video is about 20 seconds long.

By the way, the family asked for prayer, as Fredy's dad is having heart problems and suffers from high blood pressure. I told them I'd put the word out. We left there and made it in time for a youth service at a church in Carapegua. That seems to be the traditional time for gathering together as a youth group and having their own service. We were blessed and enjoyed the fellowship/terere afterwards.