Last night we had the another concert in the youth center (our front room). Have I mentioned that here, they call any get-together place--even ones that don't involve alcohol--a PUB? So we spend all week inviting young people to our Friday night pub, where they come hang out in a salon (the word for any large open room). It's kinda weird to say, even after this long.

A group of the "regulars" here who have been digging in a little deeper in the ministry, have a garage band (okay, no one has a garage, but you get it... they have a hammock-patio-brick oven band) that plays Christian heavy metal. Well, they call it heavy metal, but it's not really so heavy by our standards. It's not bluegrass, but it's not really heavy. So the garage band that doesn't have a garage plays heavy metal music that isn't so heavy, in a pub that isn't actually a pub. Anyway, they really want to use their band as an outreach to fringe youth. Their vision is right in line with ours, so we've joined forces to step it up a notch and use Friday nights as a targeted evangelism night, sort of incognito. Am I making any sense?

The jist of it is that the band comes and does a mini-concert, including some songs they've written, some praise and worship stuff that's familiar here but with a new musical style, and some music without lyrics, for the "fans." Afterward, Ken has a short devotional sort of talk, geared to those who aren't familiar with Christianity or the church. Last night he talked about having life abundantly. Then we have a meal together, hang out, play UNO and Playstation, and start conversations with the new folks.

Normally our Friday night attendance is mostly the youth from various churches in town, with a few unchurched kids mixed in. For these concert nights, we've had more of the "never darkened a church door" crowd than the typical Christian teens. This is really exciting in terms of outreach. We have had between 25-35 in attendance each night.

We've got a sort of informal group going, including the members of the band, the Tapé Missions team (i.e. us and Saul), and another young couple. Naming things in English is really popular right now, so they've named this group Holy Warriors and the Friday night event, The Border. The premise is that we live close to enemy lines, engaging in warfare for the souls of those who live over the border, so to speak.

The room is a bit small once they plug their instruments in and crank it up, but the response is great and we are praying that God uses this to reach a group of kids that are shunned and overlooked in normal ministry. We're also excited at how God will utilize it as a means of involving these youth in the group further in ministry, as they use their talents for the Kingdom. If you're free on a Friday, swing by!

This week and next, schools are out for winter vacation. This is odd considering most were closed very recently for teachers’ strikes, but vacation must go on! The two weeks coincide with the national Expo in Asuncion, which happens yearly. We went this past Thursday.

The Expo was a grand-scale version of the county fairs of past times, complete with blue-ribbon animals and candied apples. A whole area of rides and amusements took up the back portion of the Expo, but the entire front was filled with typical crafts and national stores. Anybody who’s somebody in the commercial world here had a booth or a building, as did as some small businesses. Practically every restaurant and empanada stand was represented.

I think the girls’ favorite part, however, was the farming. All the cattle and horse ranchers had their best and biggest livestock out for the competitions, not to mention the sheep, rabbits, chickens, ducks, goats, and turkeys. There were twin lambs that had been born earlier that day, much to Caroline’s delight. And we saw some of the fattest cows ever! Cattle-ranching is huge business here in Paraguay. Folks eat a lot of beef. We caught the beginning of a rodeo, but it was too cold to sit through the whole thing.

Several countries hosted pavilion buildings, showcasing what they are doing in Paraguay. China had booths of all sorts of inexpensive electronics, Taiwan had lots of toys and gadgets, and the United States had computers set up for information about American companies here (McDonalds, Exxon, etc.) The funniest part was that you couldn’t enter the US building without having to walk around the giant cardboard stand-up of President Obama. I wondered why China and Taiwan didn’t have similar statuettes of their presidents. I have no picture to prove this, but I also saw the worst Michael Jackson impersonator of all time. Ken made us leave the "show" because I was laughing hysterically--to the point of tears--and we didn't want to hurt the guy's feelings. They tell me he is famous throughout Paraguay, showing up at events all over the place. He apparently did lots of interviews right after the King of Pop's untimely death. Wow. I can't begin to describe him, but suffice it to say we had a very interesting day and I'd recommend the Expo to anyone close enough to swing by.

A couple nights ago, as we were tucking the girls into bed, something a little strange happened. The light inside the hallway got REALLY bright, and the fan sounded like an airplane preparing for takeoff. Our eyes got big and then we both realized what was happening at the same instant. POWER SURGE! We took off like crazy people unplugging everything we could find and turning off all the lights. They were all so bright, and every light fixture and appliance we got to was already making a loud buzzing noise. I was praying as I yanked cords and flipped switches.

While I dug out candles, the men and our visitors went outside to see what was happening in the neighborhood. Lots of people were out looking at the street lights and the transformer, which had apparently been the source of the problem. The next morning, we found that we’d lost most of our light bulbs and some of the fixtures, and the microwave. We thank God that the refrigerator and the heaters were spared. It’s really cold and I’d hate to think about passing the rest of this winter without the heat in the bedrooms. We also had one fixture catch fire inside the wall, apparently, because there are smoke marks and a nasty smell. Fortunately, this home is almost completely made of concrete, so the fire put itself out. This also happened with the shower head, which Ken was able to repair. I really wasn’t excited about the prospect of cold showers in the winter!

Most of our neighbors lost their televisions, but Ken ran right away to the electronics downstairs and got the youth club equipment unplugged in time. See how the minds of the male and female work? I ran for the bedrooms to unplug the heaters, HE ran for the sound system and tv!! Just like a man, huh? Considering we have a concert here tonight, though, I’m glad he thought to get those first, that we were home when this happened, and that God kept us from any further damage.

This past week we had the privilege to visit a new little school on the outskirts of Carapegua. When I say outskirts, I mean this place was off the end of the world. We drove and drove down tiny little dirt roads until I thought surely there couldn't be more.

We were told about this school by a young lady who lives a few houses down from me. She's actually the Avon Lady, but she told me a while back that she works as a volunteer teacher in a little one-room schoolhouse. Last week, we packed up an art board from Jamie and Marion and trekked out to find the school.

This young lady is the only teacher there, and she works without pay. A man from the community gave the land for the school, the families built it, and there were four teachers originally teaching there. But three left when they found work with pay, so this teacher is the last one holding the fort. She has 15 students who range in age from preschoolers to 15 years old. It reminded me of Little House on the Prairie.

What a joy to take some cookies and a soda, and hang this art board with the drawing of Jonah and the big fish, complete with scripture and the words, "Trust in God" in Spanish. We also took some elementary-level books my mom-in-law picked up from a yard sale, because the teacher said she had nothing to read to the kids. I asked her how the children bought supplies, and she explained that she picks up stuff when she can.

Well, wouldn't you know that in God's hand of providence, just this week we got news that one of Ken's former workmates was sending an offering. She and her husband were in charge of Vacation Bible School in a church near our home in Greenville, and the kids competed to see if the boys or girls could bring in more money for missions. I'm not sure who won, but I'm sure that 15 boys and girls here will be very glad they gave. I'll report back later on how this VBS investment will be used at the Loma Clavel Elementary School.

After a year and eight months, we finally have our own post office box. The mail is a funny thing here, but we've found it to be more reliable than expected. If we chose to have a po box here in the town where we live, it would add a couple weeks to the travel time for a typical envelope or package. For this reason, we decided to get a box in Asuncion--the first place the mail sees when it lands in Paraguay. The less hands it passes through, the more likely it is to arrive in one piece, you know. So after stalking those ladies at the mail office in the shopping mall for months and months now, they have finally conceded to rent us a box. We feel more like citizens now that we have this privilege. ;) We are receiving our mail at

Ken and Christie Hagerman
Casilla de Correo 13134
Shopping del Sol
Asuncion, Paraguay, South America

June 23rd is the designated day of the Festival of San Juan (St. John), but it is celebrated throughout the month of June. Our neighborhood got a little behind, I guess, because I heard a ruckus on the front porch and found a party getting started on the street in front of our house tonight, July 3. I posted about our first San Juan party last year at this link.

San Juan is the patron saint of Paraguay. The festivals resemble our fall festivals, with pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey, bobbing for apples, and a blindfolded guy trying to break a hanging ceramic pot and release the candy (think piñata). The flaming bull is popular, with a guy underneath a bull's skull, running through the crowd to scare folks. This wouldn't be so bad if they didn't wrap the horns in cloth and set them on fire. What's with the fire?

Another common part of the fiesta is hanging Judas. They stuff some clothes with straw and hang the "man" from a noose, then, you guessed it, set him on fire. At some point, the fireworks inside his straw ignite and he explodes, similar to the Biblical account. This is followed by much applause and cheering.

Our neighborhood was light on the activities, though, with only a few typical Paraguayan foods and a large group of guys in front of our house playing soccer with a fiery ball. They make it by balling up cloth, wrapping it in wire, and dipping it in kerosene. Then they light it, kick it around to each other, get the dogs all in a tizzy, and laugh about the black spots all over their pants legs and tennis shoes.

A few doors down from us is the Capilla (Catholic chapel), which is the hub of our neighborhood and where the food was being cooked and sold. Actually, our house is sort of the hub, because the chapel is down a little dirt road and our house is on the corner. So we get lots of traffic. We try to take advantage of it, and tonight it was a benefit. The kids were kicking around the ball, I was snapping photos and getting explanations from all the folks that are proud of their traditions and want to share with the local foreigner.

Since we have a stoop area (I call it a porch), lots of folks ended up sitting there. In that group were several teens who keep their distance from us. Most of the people who come to the youth events we hold here aren't from our actual neighborhood. There is a sort of socioeconomic prejudice here that is sometimes real, sometimes perceived, and in this case, perceived. Because the folks who do come here are from, literally, just a few blocks closer to the "city," it makes these local kids nervous. So they stand across the road and watch but it's like pulling teeth to get them involved in anything. Very standoffish, even when we try to visit them or get together on neutral ground. Tonight seemed to break down some walls, though, and that's an answer to prayer. Many hung around to talk after the flames died out, and one in particular had lots of questions. He said he'd never known how to take us but was drawn to us, and wanted to come see what goes on here. A long conversation ensued about his life, our beliefs, and why we'd think the eternal state of his soul was worth moving a continent away.

It's one of the differences we've learned between short-term and long-term missions. You go on a two-week trip and take the country like a whirlwind, handing out tracts, holding tent revivals, witnessing on the street, throwing out the Gospel and hoping it takes root. In "we live here" situations, it's more of a process, where you really have to get in and LIVE with the people, letting them learn to trust you and hoping they see Jesus shine through. Then the door opens to bigger things, and relationships are built that hopefully lead to salvation and discipleship. It's a matter of taking every opportunity we can to be among the people and keep praying that God opens their hearts to know Him, and opens our eyes to recognize our part in it. I can't imagine a better way to live. Thanks again, God!

I'm getting caught up on computer work and blogging this week as a side effect of not feeling so well. Thank God for laptops. I have to admit that I've enjoyed the sermons and praise and worship videos I've been able to watch from bed(thanks for sending them, College Park Church!!), and needed this time of "being still." Caroline is still in bed beside me, and despite the positive benefits of lying in bed, we're both ready to "rise up and be healed."

Paraguay won the World Cup soccer game this week, which puts them into the quarter-finals. There's no way to explain how excited everyone is about that. Folks were screaming and running out into the street and jumping into their cars to make an impromptu parade. Horns honking, fireworks going off in all directions. This lasted all day Tuesday. Practically every person in the country is wearing a soccer jersey with the red and white stripes (affectionately called the Albirroja), and waving flags from their cars, motos, bicycles, and houses. It's really very exciting and I just love that we're here to experience it. There's nothing to compare it to, unless you've been in Clemson for their game against USC. The way the whole town revolves around game day, is the closest thing to describe how this entire country revolves around these soccer games.

After hearing all that hoopla going on outside the window over my bed, I thought I'd get up and shower, because, who doesn't feel better after a shower, right? Well, it was a little too much, too soon, and the fact that I couldn't stand up without help after that edged Ken into driving me to the ER.

A really lovely lady from the community came running over when we pulled up. She apparently works there in some capacity, because she followed me right on back to the room and stroked my hair for a half hour while I lay on the stretcher. She was an angel. I heard her telling the gal who filled out my admission form, where I live and what nationality I am and that we're missionaries. I heard her say that we were good to her son, but in my state, I couldn't remember who she OR her son were, even when she said his name. I have since figured that one out, though. ;) She stayed there with me until they sent me for testing, stroking my hair and whispering that God was in control. She said something like, "It's okay, you're in the hands of God now," and in my confused state, I thought maybe it was worse than I'd imagined and I was dying! Ha, ha. The mind is funny. There aren't a high number of Christians in this town, so I really appreciated the Lord lining her up for me.

I left there and went to have blood drawn, because the doctor said I had all the classic dengue fever symptoms. I've been to this particular office several times before, and had lengthy conversations with the staff. However, today, the nurse decided I wasn't going to understand her and began to speak very slowly and LOUDLY to me. Okay, she was YELLING! I've seen this on movies and even a time or two in real life, when folks who speak one language talk louder and louder to the foreigner. But this was the first time it had happened to me, and I couldn't hold back giggling. I answered as politely as I could and then just broke into huge laughter. Ken tried to stifle his giggles, but he was laughing, too, and the poor gal was just staring at me like I was delirious. She got me back when she drew my blood. Ha, ha.

After the test results were read (well, half of them... the other half should be back this afternoon), I was sent back to the hospital, where the doctor punched me in the back a few times and asked if it hurt. I'd already told him I was sore and achy all over, so how does one respond to that? "Yes, sir, it does." He was in a bit of a rush, so he was pleased to hear it hurt. He smiled and said, "I knew it. It must be a bad kidney infection." He told me to take antibiotics and ushered me to the door. He said not to worry about coming back for my dengue results because I looked like a lucky person and probably wouldn't be the type to get dengue fever. So the mosquitoes judge who they'll bite by how lucky we look? Wish I'd known that a long time ago. He also told me I should stay in bed for nine days. Nine seems like such a random number to me. I noticed the poster as I was walking out, that said all possible dengue cases must be reported to the district office, and the protocol for doing that. I'm guessing he didn't have time for those reports. The whole ordeal made me want to laugh, and to thank God that I have a mother who is a nurse and has an email box. Sometimes the treatment here is stellar, and sometimes I shake my head and wonder.

Yesterday, we rallied and took Hollie to the airport. Her six months had come to an end and she was very ready to see her family again, and to meet the nephew that was born since she'd come here. Unfortunately, her flight was delayed and we learned later than the airline had put her and her traveling companion, Heather, in a hotel for the night. So the gals are currently braving it in Argentina until they can catch the NEXT flight to the U.S., set to arrive 24 hours later than the original plan. I suspect they are chomping at the bit to get home! Thankfully, they are safe and sound and the airline is looking after them, including meals and transportation. I am thankful they didn't have to spend the night in the airport, like my Mom and Grandpa Tommy did last month.

By the time we'd gotten back from the airport, Caroline (who has been battling sore throat and fever) and I were just plain worn out. We're resting a lot today and I'm gathering the strength to teach English class tonight. Camille is cleaning out Hollie's house, Saul is handling some ministry stuff, and Ken's keeping us fed and watered.

Tomorrow, we are invited to the Embassy, as are all American citizens living here, to participate in an Independence Day celebration. Kinda like 4th of July on the 2nd, with a flag raising ceremony and such. It's a long drive, but we don't want the girls to miss the opportunity to be part of that, since normal holidays don't really seem like holidays here. Please pray that we gain much strength today and Caroline's fever breaks.