SWU - Mission Trip

I'm no stranger to international travel.  However, I've never participated in an international mission trip.  My Introduction To Computers class at SWU this semester has challenged us to look at the different mission trips available and look into what is involved in the process of applying, planning, costs, time, and objectives.

I have always felt that my love of the Spanish language would be the center of where I chose to go on a trip, because all of us have something that can be used for God's glory.  The Dominican Republic is located in the Caribbean and shares the island of Hispaniola with Haiti to the west.

Brookwood Church in Simpsonville is doing a Mission Trip to the Dominican Republic from July 19-26 where 200 children who are residents of 2 children's homes are treated to a week of a fun summer camp.  One of the homes, Jackie's House is an orphanage and refuge for children with disabilities and children from abusive homes.  You could see more about the home in this YouTube video below:

The other home, REMAR, houses and schools children coming from high risk situations of abuse, domestic violence, and extreme poverty.

Have you gone on an international mission trip?  Where?  Would you go again?
What is one piece of advice you would give to someone before their first trip?  Share in the comments!

The Bridge

We went on a beautiful hike.  However, this is not a hike that people take for fun around here, they do it out of necessity.  There are very few people in town who have cars... I can name them.  To get anywhere big enough to have a supermarket, bank, clothing, etc., they have to take the bus.  Except you can't just walk out to the street and hop on the bus.  The bus stop is up on the federal highway (across the river).  Walking on the road would take you way out of the way about two miles, not to mention it is narrow and curvy, thus dangerous to walk on.  A ride to the bus stop costs $20 pesos, and then a ride from the bus stop back home would be another $20 pesos, and people only make $150 pesos on the days that there is work, so it's not very feasible.  So, people walk down by our house, down the steep bank, and then cross the river on the bridge.

 

 



 

Some of the steeper parts have stairs etched into the rock.

 

Here is the looking back at the hill once I was at the bottom.  To get a perspective, look up near the smoke at the top of the picture.  That little speck is a man.  Behind him is our house.  All the little brown sticks are mini-cornfields, with the stalks turned down in half so the ear will dry without rotting.  They later cut the ears and pick off the kernels to save for the coming year to make all of their tortilla, tamal, and corn-masa goods which make up a huge portion of their diet.

 

 

Here is the suspension bridge. Papi calls it "Tarzan's bridge."

 

 

And here is the river below it.

 

Before I actually got there, I swore I was going to go on it and take a picture of the river from the middle. But then, I got there.  I wouldn't say I have a fear of heights, but I have no balance, and I'm not exactly a light-weight girl.  In an effort to avoid sudden death, or at least a panic attack, I backed out at the last minute.

 

While waiting for the bridge to be clear so I could get a picture, over a dozen people crossed it, most of them running (and bouncing) and none of them even holding the sides.  Nope, nope, nope.

 

Papi went up the first part but didn't go out over the water.  When he was no more than 14, he would take bags of guajes (they look like beanpods) across and up to the bus where he would take a four-hour bus ride to Tehaucan, Puebla and sell them to the ladies with the market stands, then buy fruits and vegetables, etc. and then bring them back and haul them across and back up to his house.  Alone.

 

I was later talking to one of Papi's aunts and she said that when she was young (about 6), there was only one upper cable and one lower cable, that you had to sidestep on all the way to the other side.  One day her father (Papi's grandfather) was carrying sacks on his front and back and when one started to slip, he didn't think and tried to grab it, losing his balance and falling to the rocks below.  He died later at home, probably from internal bleeding.  Papi said he didn't even know that was how he died and asked how in the world I can get so much information out of people sometimes.  Because I talk, then I listen, and ask lots of questions, and then listen, and think of more questions to ask next time so that they don't get annoyed with me today. :-)

 

 

 

 

The Moving Rock

This is Sofi's natural "I'm excited that I got to be on top of the rock by myself" smile.  A fun photographer's fact: instead of "cheese" (obviously, since "queso" would make you make a duck face), they say "WHISKEY!"  For some reason, that tickled me.

 

Sofi and her cousins, the daughters of Papi's brother.





 

We went to see the "Moving Rock" the other day.  It supposedly weighs around 20 tons but can be rocked back and forth with a finger, however the machines that were brought in to move it were not able to move it from it's site even a centimeter. 

 

 

The legend is that a couple was turned to stone during an "act" of being unfaithful to their spouses.   There are tons of myths and legends, especially when they have been passed down for many years since the indigenous people.  I have learned that just about everything has a "story."  I also have learned that you don't have to believe in order to imagine!

 

Rejas

Anyone that knows Papi, knows that he has an incredible knack for using/transforming what we already have into what we need instead of buying.  Anyone remember the pinball table turned into ribbon rack? I was so sad to have to leave that one in the U.S....

 

In Mexico, anything with any conceivable future use is saved and used again.  It is really pretty amazing.  I will have to take my camera out and collect some pictures.

 

Just for one example, produce around here comes in these wooden crates called rejas.  If you are lucky, you can get your hands on the plastic crates like my Mom uses at her house.  I haven't been that lucky, yet.  

 

A little scrub with some water and bleach if I am going to use it inside, just because I'm a little weird like that...

 

 

Sofi pushing Fatima's crate swing...



Bookshelves and cubbies at the elementary school...

 

Seat for cute babies on the tricycle...

 

And when they get really shabby, as in, a lot of cracked boards or rotted, people that cook outside on brazeros, basically a camping-style cooking fire elevated up on a table, will come buy them for cooking wood.

 

I love me some rejas. I pick out the nicest looking ones each week and keep finding more uses for them! 

Screens

In theory, screens are supposed to keep things out of the house.  However, since we didn't have electricity/fans yet, we needed to get as much air flowing through the house which meant leaving the door open.  Also, with people (and us) working on the house, the door was pretty much constantly open.

 

I don't think the living things around here know quite what to do with windows and screens.  At our house right now, things get in, but can't get out.  Most "windows" around here are just bars, with no glass.



 

 

Miguel Angel showing Sofi the bird he caught in the house while painting, before letting it go.

 



 

 

This is another guy that I find often in the house, going around and around the window trying to get out.  Around here they call it a "Cuija" (KWEE-ha).  It's skin is almost clear, allowing you to see it's veins.  It also makes a really loud kissing sound... or the sound you make when you suck your tongue against the roof of your mouth to coax an animal to come to you.  It is so strange, it makes me laugh whenever I hear it.

 

Of course, my first questions is "Does it bite?" and "Is it poisonous?" Many people kill them, because they crawl on the ceiling and "if they fall into your food on the stove, it will make you sick."  Well, I cover my food on the stove anyways to save gas, so I guess I am safe.  They eat insects, spiders, and even scorpions.  That's all I needed to hear! Little white guy, you are welcome to stay!

 

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving to all my family and friends in the U.S.! Today looks just like any other day in Mexico, no mention at all of turkeys.  There are turkeys that just roam around my yard a lot, though.  I keep telling him he wouldn't survive in S.C. like that!  But, despite the delicious feast, we are always thankful for all of the blessings and mercies we receive every day.

 

 

It has been 'drizzling' for the past few days so I couldn't go out in the middle of the yard to find signal like I normally do.  It was a non-stop, strange, drizzle.  It floated toward us just like snow does in the headlights at night, so much so that I opened my window to check. Nope, it was warm.

Yesterday and today, it has been "cold" enough to where if you wanted to wear a long-sleeved shirt, you could, without burning up.  I am, as usual, in a short-sleeved shirt and flip flops.

 

We have now made four all-day trips to the big city to the equivalent of the DMV office.  I will never, ever, complain about the SCDMV again.  It now looks like pure efficiency.  Every time they asked us for a new paper or gave us a new stamp, we were sent down street to the copy shop to bring back so many copies and wait again.  Got sent to the bank to pay one of the fees, come back with the receipt, where they stapled it to our paper and said "bring back one copy."  Ahh! You should have told me to go pay at the bank and bring back one copy of the receipt, all in one step!! But it's okay, all done now, we can now drive legally.

 

Yesterday, something strange-to-me and normal-to-them happened.  I have never been to a Mexican funeral (or the night of the death when they stay up all night at the family's house, a really long "wake"), but I have heard stories from Papi. I realize that Mexicans treat death very differently, but I still was not prepared for this, though.  While we were waiting in the "DMV" office, everyone gets quiet and Papi pulls me back away from the desk and towards the chairs, says "shhh" to Sofi and tells me to keep standing.  Ohhhhhh kayyyy?  In comes men rolling a coffin, and with a large group of family crying and recording on their cell phones.  Now, I'm really confused.  A BODY??  All of the workers get up without saying anything and follow the family to a back room.  We could hear some talking and then clapping, talking then clapping, and then everyone came back out with the coffin after about half an hour.  Papi tugged my shirt to stand up again.  Shushing Sofi was pointless because she kept saying "What is that?! What are they doing?! Why are they crying?!" But, I don't think anyone understood anyways.  They all left and the workers returned to their desks and resumed work as normal.  Apparently, the gentleman was working there until his death.  This was one of those "only in Mexico" moments.

 

Today and every day, I wake up thankful for my life, another opportunity to love on my sweet family.  We always have food on the table, even if it's not turkey tonight.  Some things are more difficult than expected but we have run into so many "this is not a coincidence, this is a God-thing" that I don't even get bothered much when things don't go as planned.  We are working hard to finish our house and make it a home for us and our "missing piece," my Estela bug.  We love you and miss you Estela... don't eat too much of Grandma's good cooking tonight!

 

 



Bananas Part II

Obviously with so many bananas, we couldn't eat them all.  And we all know what we do when the bananas start getting too dark (and really sweet, but mushy)... say it with me... banana bread and banana pancakes!  Well, in my momma's house, at least.

 

I realize pancakes are super easy and I don't need a "mix," but curiosity got me to find out what "Hot Cakes" were like.  Papi says they never ate them at home but when the fair comes for the yearly Town Festival that they serve them.  Pancakes? Fair Food?

 

It was a lot harder than I thought to find syrup.  The only one that I found was "Karo" brand, which is funny because in the U.S. I've never gotten anything Karo except for Light and Dark Corn Syrup.  Actually, it's not too odd because all it really was, was maple-flavored corn syrup.

 

 

 

The verdict:  Hot Cakes are way too sweet for me.  Normally, Mexican desserts are not sweet enough for me.  But I definitely am not used to super-sweet pancakes.  I'll just go from scratch next time.  Syrup, well, we'll just use fruit compote or goat-milk caramel or heck, even sweetened condensed milk.  I'll save my craving for Vermont Maple when I can get the real stuff.



The banana bread... from scratch, of course.  I made little loaves and gave them away to family and neighbors, who out of all of them had never tried it.  I might not freak out about bananas going to waste every time, because there are sooo many, but I do look forward to more food that reminds me of my SC home!