Fran

So I go to Córdoba Immersions, and I usually have an expectation of knowing what I am doing. The funny thing is, I don't. I also know this, and yet my expectation remains..

Therefore, I am put into this position of leader of a team of students. Usually, you will get troubled kids, but you'll often be balanced out by good ones as well. The problem is when the troubled kids impact the good ones.

Franco is a good kid. He would try to speak English (at the English camp given in Argentina), he would offer good ideas, he would participate. But some of the games are challenging, and everyone on the team is complaining. One kid is trying to have all the attention, but is not encouraging the team.

In one game, everyone does so well, but they don't finish the challenge. They look to the others and complain, "But they have it easier!" "But it's impossible!"

So Franco quits. He leaves the group completely, and sits with the others who can't play due to broken arms or legs (seriously).

I call him, and another who is more of the problem. "We want you to participate, but we need to work as a team. So if you want to participate again, show me that you care. Sit here and cheer us on. The team will decide when you can join again."

Neither of them were enthusiastic about this, but I had to get them away from their friends that only made their leaving the team worse.

I was heartbroken by the brokenness of our team. I even cried with Marisol and Russell about how the good kids were not getting to enjoy their time because of the influence of the negative ones. They offered some tips, gave their hugs. I sat by the pool while the kids swim, and decided to write a little note to Franco, in Spanish, telling him how I felt about his potential. 'I understand that it must be difficult to work with our team, and it's your choice, but what a lastima that we miss out on what you could contribute.'

He sheepishly came to me later saying he wanted to participate. And then, at the end of the camp, he wrote this letter:

"I'm thankful for Sarayah for understand me and give me other choice for participate. I'm sorry for what I do."

Simply precious.

I am reminded that we can't change someone ever. I often return to this conclusion about how only God can change a heart. But I wanted to stress more the idea that we can't make much of a difference in a matter of days.. hours really. How much more awesome when God is kind enough to show us a smidgen of hope in such a short time!

Eduardo, 19

Cletis had gotten to know a group of younger folk from the hostel. I seemed to keep up with the older generation. From a Canadian guy who had been hurt by his ex-wife, to an Italian who was encouraged by the work I do, wanting to invest in a children's home in Brazil work permitting, to a French couple that always cooked something interesting each evening.

But one opportunity arose for me to converse with the young Brazilian Eduardo. He had sat down for lunch at my table, while I was reading the Bible. Naturally, he asked what that was about. I explained that I like to read, and this book is particularly interesting.

Subject changed, and he asked if there was anything going on between Cletis and I. I reassured him with a laugh, that there is no "onda" there whatsoever. We are traveling together because we work together. Once again, got to explain the reason I am in Argentina at all, which stems from what God first did for me.

"Would you like to know my theory on life?" He asked. Sort of with a smirk, with a desire to press my buttons and get me angry. Little did he know..

As he explained his theory, I told him that it sounded a lot like this television show I had watched recently called Battlestar Galactica. Speechless, I explained the basics of the show, and he nodded. "Yeah! That's kind of it! I can't believe someone else has already thought of it and even made a tv show out of it!"

It made me chuckle a little bit. I remember thinking that I knew all there was to know when I was 19. Reality can bite.

But then he said to me, "You know though, I think God is trying to speak to me. I just don't know how to listen."

"Go on," I said.

He told me of a time when a random old woman had told him that he needed to be careful. His girlfriend wanted to hurt him. That evening when he was visiting her at her house, he found a knife in her dresser drawer. She was embarrassed that he found out. She was planning on attacking him.

I know it's a strange story, but there was nothing in his face to show that he was lying.

"And there was this one time," he began, retelling an account in which he had gone hiking in Brazil and had gotten lost. In desperation he yelled out, and a fox appeared. It blocked him from a certain path so he went to another. The fox followed him, blocked him, and followed him until he was back in a safe place.

"What could it all mean?" he asked.

Eduardo said that he prays all the time. He doesn't always know what to pray, but he does it all the same.

I told him that maybe the very book I was reading would serve him well. "In a way," I explained. "In a way, the Bible is the other half of the conversation. We talk to God through prayer, and He talks to us through his Word." (I intended the double entendre, but I am unsure if he followed.)

I told him I would get him a Bible if he really wanted, and we again looked at me in disbelief. "You would do that?!"

"Por su puesto!" I smiled. And he wrote his mailing address for me. Now to find a Portuguese Bible.. haha.

He always smiled when we saw each other again, and even made an effort to sit with me a couple times more to talk about the day. You could sense the difference between him and the others, versus wh

Naty, 27

During an asado at the end of a 4x4 tour of the mountains in Ushuaia, I got to know a young woman named Natalia. While the others busied themselves with conversation about English, a conversation that I have gotten pretty tired of myself, Naty and I talked about where we've traveled, and the languages we know.

She mentioned Hebrew. Then she mentioned that she'd been to Israel. I was quick to put two and two together and she affirmed. Yes, she's Jewish. We talked about the culture a little and finished up the meal. On the way home we realized we were staying in the same hostel, so we mentioned grabbing a bite to eat for dinner much later on.

While I was hanging out in the room, reading, Naty knocked at the door.

"Hey, sorry I can't make dinner tonight. I ran into a couple of Israelis in our hostel and they invited me to a Shabbat."

I was overjoyed for her, and then timidly asked, "You think it would be okay if I came? I've always wanted to go to a traditional Shabbat."

She was shocked. I assured her that if I couldn't go, since I'm a Christian, I understood. But I had so much curiosity!

She checked with her friends, and I joined her for a beautiful Shabbat in the middle of Ushuaia. No, they didn't speak Spanish. The sixty or so present spoke only in Hebrew, in which case, I understood nothing. However, I loved it all the same, embracing the beauty of the community that chose to meet despite being from other parts of the world, on vacation, etc. etc. I enjoyed listening to the message, and most, listening to the young men, adorned in their yamakas, singing and reading Scripture.

I was a little tired though, and apologized for my need to leave early. Two hours had already passed, and there was no telling how much longer it would take. Not to mention that the only plans for afterward were to go to a bar, which doesn't exactly fill me up.

The next day, I had gone to Laguna Esmerelda and came home with a stomach ready to eat, and eat well. Specifically, the famous King Crab of Ushuaia! I had to coax Naty to come with me, only because she didn't want to spend too much money to go out to eat. I reassured her that I had a friend (Friend!) who had blessed me and I wanted to use that money to bless her. So she acquiesced.

I asked her more questions about the Jewish culture. I was able to coincide a lot that I had already learned through a former roommate, as well as other studies of the Bible I had done. Which is when, after all the explaining had been done, she said to me,

"What do you believe any way?"

As shocked as she was on Friday, I had to hold every excitement inside me. "As in, what I believe as a Christian?"

"Yeah. I have no idea about any of it. Can you explain it to me?"

Umm.. YEAHHH!!!!!

And so I progressed through the basics, but also used the facts of the Old Testament to show the need for the Savior Jesus. I added how important it was for Jesus to resurrect, so He could give us the gift of the Holy Spirit. "And I know the Holy Spirit is real because in all of this time that I have been talking with you, I feel His power giving me the words and making it clear."

She nodded. "It's all so fascinating," she said. She told me she had never known about Jesus, and that she wanted to study more about Him if possible. I pointed her in the direction of the Bible and how it helps me to understand God's character in general.

We finished up dinner and didn't get to talk much more during our time together. Nonetheless, it was an amazing conversation, and I was able to give her a bracelet with the colors that express the salvation story. I added a note thanking her for her time and for all I learned from her. She wrote me back before she left about how it was a pleasure to get to know one another.

Vane, 32

On the same Playa Larga, on our traverse back to the hostel, we ran into a young woman who asked us to take her picture. We got to talking only to find out that she too, is from Córdoba. She lives in Río Cuarto, a small town that I know through various friends. She said she used to live in the city, but that someone in her family is sick, so she had to go back. We exchanged numbers with the idea that we could meet up during our vacation and adventure together.

Who knew it would be the very next day in which she and I would bike all of Tierra del Fuego National Park.

And like with pretty much everyone here, we shared our lives. I explained the work I am priveliged to be a part of, she explained more of her life.

She´s back home in Río Cuarto because her sister has contracted cancer. Which means she had to leave behind the job she loved in the city (where I live), her boyfriend, her home that she had grown accustom to.

But she was so joyous throughout the day. Perhaps the better term is hopeful. She loves her sister and doesn´t want her to suffer. Her sister clearly loves her enough to let Vane enjoy a month of vacation to be away from all of the stress life can bring.

I hope to stay in contact with Vane when I return. One of the perks afforded by Facebook allows us to stay in touch. Well, apart from the cell phone too. All that to say, how blessed for us to run into each other. And what a blessing to go to the end of Route 3 at the end of the park with her (picture to come!).

Carlos, 25

Perhaps my first true contact with a Brazilian, we met one morning, my first morning in Ushuaia. I was prepared to take the solo trek to Glacier Martial until someone said in broken English,"Someone going to the glacier?"

It was Georgiana, from Bs. As. who was accompanied by this Brasilero. And since the internet wasn´t working for me any way, I was able to leave with them, and save 20 pesos for the cab fare.

We talked a little bit. The taxi drivers are always wanting to learn from where their passengers come, so this one was surprised by the variety we provided, and that we were all complete strangers.

On the hike up the mountain, Georgiana had to stop and turn back, but Carlos and I kept going. We are both determined people, and we were going to touch the glacier! The only problem, is it took all the energy out of me in order to carry on a decent conversation. My heart was in my throat, and it wasn´t until we reached the top that words finally came through.

Turns out he studied Naval Engineering, which took him to Norway for half a year to study the fjords. So.. he knows Portuguese, Spanish, English, and even a little Norwegian. But multiple languages is not a surprise anymore as I travel throughout Argentina. It´s just natural.

We didn´t talk too much more, apart from the basic information of our lives. There was the complaint on my end about how I have to pay 300 dollars just to enter his country, but he reassured me that changes are on the horizon. Woohoo!

The next day we had more time to chat. Again, Georgiana backed out of the plans to go to Playa Larga, so Carlos and I made the simple hike. It led us to some daunting rocks that we happily climbed, but as no end was in sight, we stopped for a snack before turning back around.

He opened up more about his beliefs. A Catholic, who desires to be married only once and to never divorce. He seems to have good morals. "But are they enough?" I thought to myself.

We headed home, and had one more encounter where I shared with him some Fernet I had ordered at the bar.

Cristian, taxi driver

It was a late night Sunday back in September. Really has time flown by so? Yet I'll never forget Cristian if not simply for the fact that he can be included in my many taxi driver incidents that I seem to be a magnet for.

I was coming home from Dean Funes, a short weekend with my good friend Noemi you may have read about in a previous post (or could read about now, I suppose - ha). We split a taxi on our way home, so I was now alone with a younger man. So young that it lead to my question:

"How long have you been driving a taxi?"

"Oh I just started," he told me. "Where are you from?"

I get that a lot. Most people are nice about it and just say it's my blue eyes. Clear eyes is the direct translation. I kind of like that.. but I digress. People have been kind in the last few months that they only notice because I talk slower, although my pronunciation is good.

And so the conversation continued, mainly along the lines of why I am here and what I want to do with my life.

"You probably are only interested in guys from the United States," he probed at one point.

"Not necessarily," I explained. "But as I've told you before, I've got some big dreams.." (we had talked about the possibility of India for example) .."so whoever the guy is, he's gotta be willing to dream big too.

"It IS important that he believes in Jesus," I nonchalantly added.

We were arriving to the house and I noticed him slow down after I said that. He was looking in the rearview mirror at me a lot, and I kind of just brushed it off.

"Look," I finished. "All I'm trying to say is that if Jesus could die for me even when I didn't deserve it, the least I could do is serve His people who are in need, wherever that may be."

The car stopped, and he paused after he had given me back my change and receipt.

"That's really interesting," he said to me. "Really."

I can still remember how his composure had changed from his first, more uncomfortable question, to where we were now. I was praying for wisdom in our conversation, as well as for the meter to not go crazy with how slow he was going at the end there. I was also very thankful to have friends waiting outside the house the moment I had arrived. One of them joked with me when I came out after a few minutes, "What? Were you sharing the gospel with him or something?"

"Actually, yeah," I smiled.

Marta Franco

Meeting people often is dependent upon one or two smaller choices. As in, I had made the choice earlier in the week to go for a walk with Flor at 2pm on Thursday. I meet with Noemi every Thursday morning, in the middle of the city, at 11am. I always walk to the city, but sometimes, especially if you need to be back by 2, it's better to take the bus back.

The bus stop I'm best acquainted with for where I am on Thursday mornings has a bad reputation. I used to have to cook for 7, and had chosen to meet with Noemi on the same morning as the designated cook day at that time. The agony of waiting for that E4 had become intolerable--I was so thankful to have more time to get back home when we switched days.

Sure enough, the bus didn't come. I was alone at the stop for awhile, and was contemplating walking just a little bit further, to Nuevo Centro, to wait at the stop in which 3 buses that I could take home make a stop. "No, I will wait," I told myself.

The line slowly accumulated. I paid more attention to the kids across the street, waiting to go home from morning classes. Two boys started chasing each other. One fell and it caused the other to trip up too. Both were laughing furiously, and I joined them, thinking I had just witnessed a miniature version of something straight from the Three Stooges.

"I don't know what gets into boys to act that way," said the woman next to me.

I just laughed some more. "Boys will be boys."

She was not accustom to the irregularity of the E4 stopping where we were, and I could see her growing impatient. Bus after bus passed, but never the one we needed. I explained the inconstancy, but we were also noticing (the "we" now including the much larger line) that all of the buses were packed to the max. An E4 finally came, but refused to stop as it was too full.

She asked me where I was going as I had begun thinking about giving up and walking home after all. Maybe even just going to a place where it was easier to pick up a taxi (when I despise taking taxis if I can help it). I explained the approximate location and she said that she lived close. Just a few blocks earlier than where I get off. She invited me to take a cab, even willing to pay for the half that led to her house, and I would pay for the shorter trip onward to my humble abode.

Of course, then came the question of where I was from, as she could tell from my accent that I wasn't from Argentina. Completely lost in this conversation, another 15 minutes passed with no bus (nor taxi), but what seemed to be a budding friendship.

She is a student from the school of languages, studying French. She has four children, one girl who is my age. She is a Christian, with missionary friends from other countries.

Before I knew it, we continued the conversation on a very empty E4 that was taking an unusual route through the city. We exchanged information with an open invitation to her house to meet everyone.

When I got home, Flor called to say that she couldn't go for a walk today. Translation, I could have walked home any way.