POST by RENZ: Riding Miss Crazy

One day we went out for a ride on the horses just around the community. The people that went with us were Francesca, Sezni, Yader (the Centre's gardener/ more or less brother jaja) Grace (my best friend living here in Nicaragua. She is twelve years old and is freakishly tall. She is a red head and has a bunch of freckles scattered over her cheeks.) and last but not least I went too.

(If this is the first time that you are reading about this, we have five horses and one of them is pregnant just so you know.) Grace went on Mexico, a medium sized, brown coloured horse. He is quite obedient and is more or less bravo. Bravo means that someone is like always kicking or biting so Mexico doesn't do those things a lot.

I went on Oreo. She is small and VERY stubborn. Her coat is like a mix. It is black with white blur type things all over her. She hardly ever listens to the directions that you give to her. The good thing about her is that she is not rough. For example, she doesn't kick or bite. She only does that to other horses, not to human beings.

Francesca rode on Cadburys. Cadburys is the opposite of Oreo. She is obedient but sometimes she can get a bit mean. I think that she is like that because she is pregnant and is going to have it soon because her belly is big and Yader says that she will probably have it within days. Now because of that, we can't go so fast when we are on her. Her coat is Cadbury coloured (sort of) and that is why we called her Cadburys.

Yader went on Cookie. Cookie is a white with black freckles and is the biggest horse that we have. He is bravo and not so obedient, stubborn, and doesn't like getting hit and that is hard for Yader because when a horse doesn't obey him, he automatically hits it. So when Yader hits him, he becomes even more disobedient.

So we were riding with the horses down the dirt road which is considered a street. Everyone in my community knows each other and lives so close to each other and Yader lives at the end of the dirt road near our house, and after his house there is a hill. First you go down and then you go up and Cookie doesn't like going down or up hills at all.

At the same time whilst we were going down three other horses and carts were going up the same hill. Their carts were full with fire wood and they have to make their horses go fast. Mexico went crazy and started bucking and kicking, doing strange things.

 Grace was trying to control him but she couldn't. luckily a man at the bottom stopped Mexico and grace got off. She was freaked out and had scrapes all over her legs. Grace and I didn't dare to get back on the horses, we walked on the way home leading the horses behind us.

POST by FRAN: Highs & Lows

We are now eleven in the Brien family; Mum, Dad, I, Lorenzy-Ella, Sezni, Rafael, Billy, Yader, Jocasta, and recently an eight year-old named Brian and a five year-old named Oliver. Billy, Oliver and Brian go to the Capital Edge Community School or as we like to say “CECS”.

Yader works here at Capital Edge Community Centre, and he is the director of the center. Jocasta works in the school with the two year-olds in the creche. Dad stays home all day with us children and works at CECS. He also homeschools lorenzy, Sezni, Rafael and me. Mum goes to work at NCA (Nicaragua Christian Academy) and will finish working there in June.

Mum earns barely enough to be able to maintain our rather large family, and Dad is always on the computer to see if anyone wants to sponsor a student from CECS. He is usually on the computer from 4:00P.M until 3:00A.M!

My parents also have to pay for electricity, internet, water and we have to go grocery shopping for food. Sometimes we would go without water or electricity because we weren’t able to pay the bills! Once we went a whole week without water!

Before my Dad worked at an American school that is here for the rich Nicaraguans and he got paid more than my Mum did, so Mum would sometimes take us out to special places like the movies or to McDonald’s and we would have so much fun together.

Then our family grew a little bit and Dad decided to stop working at the American school so we don’t go out so often, because there is not so much income anymore.

We kids get a little bit of money by selling avocadoes and mangoes. It is fun, but hard because it’s a lot of work! It’s annoying though, because Sezni wants to buy a Nintendo Wii and so we haven’t spent any of the money just because we are saving up for a Wii!

It was a blessing that we were able to buy this wonderful house, because we were able to start CECS and the endless Friday night swimming with youth from around the community! It’s a lot of fun having the pool because of the never ending heat; everyone wants to swim in the pool!

I love it when the community comes to swim on Friday nights and for taekwondo time and stuff like that, because I have so many friends. I never knew that I would make so many friends within my community.

We really WERE brought here to help with the community, and a part of helping them is by making friendships. After you have made friends, everything else, like sharing God’s love, gets so much easier.

We have been living like this for at least four months and sometimes it’s hard, like with police that only pull you over to get bribes, and sometimes it’s a real blessing, like when we were invited to a Quince party or when I was invited to go see two new born babies! I live life how I’m supposed to. I love it.

POST by JED: He Was Broken

I've wanted to do it a thousand times before, write about an average day at Capital on the Edge. Problem is, there just aren't any average days! So today is the day, like it or lump it.

I had gone to bed at 1:30am on Monday night. We're currently planning a trip to the USA to speak in Churches and hopefully raise some vitally needed funds for our ministry here in Managua, Nicaragua. We're believing God for miracles because we're running at a monthly deficit of $2k, and without a miracle we're sunk.

Jamil, our gardener/dance teacher, had called out my name several times shortly after 6am, just like an alarm clock. But, just like an alarm clock, I had (verbally) hit him hard and he too had gone off. I continued to snooze... By 7:30am I was merely dozing and then, like most sleepy-heads with too much going on in their brains, I sprung out of bed and into action.

I raced around the house shouting orders and getting myself ready. "Get out of bed, you LAZY CHILD!!!" I screamed in this room. "Can't find your other shoe? Well how about you START LOOKING!!!" I shouted in the next. I'm not a morning person and today I was a bear-on-brigade due to the all-night planning session I'd had.

"I'll just print off the phrases I'm teaching the kids and go over them with the staff in our morning meeting. It will be fun for them to learn a bit of English each day, and will take the tension out of 'Why were you 3 hours late yesterday?' and 'Could you please, PLEASE, put that mobile phone away at some stage today...', type conversations that would invariably arise at some point."

"Good gracious! The printer is not working!!!" I muttered to myself in a state of frustration. "Reboot, reboot, everything always works with a reboot." I rebooted, and to my complete surprise, it worked! However, I now only had 5 minutes to round up 7 children, spot-check the house for cleanliness/tidiness, and make sure we'd bought enough fruit for the morning snack.

I galloped through our living room (mostly dressed) and saw that nearly all of our staff were already seated just willing the day to begin. "Blow it", I thought. "I'm getting a coffee and having a chat." 


I strolled over to the coffee pot, just the sight nearly sent me off to a special somewhere. I poured myself a cup of steaming, hot, heavenliness. YUMMO! To all you non-coffee drinkers out there, you're nuts! You don't know what you're missing!! Best legal drug on the market!!!

Whilst still savoring my very first sip, I opened the squeaky wire door which leads from the kitchen to our spacious verandah. (where we do EVERYTHING - It's the HUB of our Community Centre...) As I began to walk through the door, I noticed that all of the Brien boys, all 5 of them, were in the pool.

The coffee must have been hot, because my head 'bout exploded. To say I was mad, would have been like saying Hitler was a murderer. I flew to the coffee table in a MOUNTAIN OF RAGE, carefully placed my coffee cup down (so as to not spill a single drop) and swung off the verandah and into the very faces of the boys I both love and cherish.

"HOW DAAAAAAAAAAAAAARE YOU!?!? Do you know what time it is? Yes, that's right! Where should you be right now? Yes, that's right! What were you thinking? Nothing? No that's not right! Well now... GET INSIDE PRONTO BEFORE I COMPLETELY LOSE MY TEMPER AND REALLY LOSE THE PLOT!" Every muscle and vein in my body was tense, pulsating and visable.

"Goodness, slight overkill", I thought to myself as I spun on my heel and be "HEAVENS!" Interrupted! Why there behind, all the while, had been a brand new student and mother standing by. "GOOD LORD NO!"

They were clearly distressed, because they'd left the comfort of the swing (which was still swinging) and were heading for our laundry, and probably the front gate after that. 


I cannot tell you how difficult it is to get an "angry, still wanting to show I'm mad and mean business", kind of face - off, and a "Welcome to your new scholastic home, a World of opportunities, yet to be unraveled and treasured", kind of face - on... (Check out the movie "Strictly Ballroom")

It was awkward, but I did it. Phrasing in Spanish for my excuses didn't automatically pop into my head, so I explained in English, throwing the odd Spanish word in for who knows what reason. I am sincerely unaware of what I was hoping to achieve by this tactic, but if I were to analyse, I think I'd arrive at the conclusion that I was trying to distract Mum by being a complete loon, so she'd forget the hideous moment which had just transpired.

I spoke rather loudly trying to deceive the dear Mum. I wanted her to think I was German and that she'd been mistaken - it's just cross-cultural phenomenon... I hadn't been scathing and scowling, I'd merely been giving my children a brisk daybreak greeting "Bon Jour" I wanted to say, but again, I couldn't place the German equivalent. So, I just said "Eins, zwei, drei, view, fünf, sechs (her eyebrows raised at this point), sieben, acht, neun y zehn? Aaaaaaaaaaaah bien!" 

I grabbed her by the arm and marched, with my feet a little too pointed at the peak of their ascension, but hey, I'd already made a complete fool of myself - what was left to damage? I rounded the bend and saw a mixture of expressions on the faces of my staff. "Francesca, can you please translate?" I enquired.

About 15 minutes later I was whizzing along on our motorbike. We've bought a horse cart, but unfortunately a local lad mounted the horse that pulls our cart, without the protecting blanket underneath the saddle. Consequently, the horse has many a sore upon it's poor back. Ouch! Poor thing. It'll be a while before we can use the ol' horse and cart to collect the wee tots. For now biking is our only option.

I rounded the bend and saw two small children I've never seen before. That's a rare thing for me in these parts. I know EVERYONE in our barrio and the surrounds. I stopped the bike and turned it off. I jumped off the machine.

The little boy, of approximately 18 months, leaned into his sister. These children were filthy. They had scabs all over their heads and leaking noses. Muck and grime completely covered them from head-to-toe. They smelt awful. The boy had no clothes on and his sister just had knickers on.

I approached the children and they cringed. I asked them where they lived. Their resopnse was to merely stare at me with scared eyes. I started to approach them again and the boy turned to run. 


"Are you okay?" I asked in Spanish. The little girl began to cry. These kids looked sick, malnourished and tired. "Where's Mummy?" I enquired. A lady came out of her "house" and called out to me. "The children live up there, in that house", she said whilst pointing.

I approached the house and knocked on the wooden panels which made up the door frame. I then wished I hadn't because one of the panels fell off into my hands. A small figure appeared before me. A woman. A sad and lonely, sickly, desperately void-of-any-hope woman.

Of course, the Jed in me wanted to throw my arms around her and cry. That is always my first instinct. I have learnt to overcome it. "Hello treasure." I said in Spanish. "Can I take your children to school with me today?" She looked like she was going to cry. She examined the ground around her feet. I could tell that something was desperately wrong. I wanted to gently push for answers, but it would have been inappropriate for me to do so at this point. She slowly nodded her head and after saying "goodbyes" I whisked the kids away.

School was mayhem that day. Three new kids and we're nearly halfway through the year. Jocasta, our fantastic creche director from Australia, was a brave soldier and worked her behind off, making these kids' first day at Capital Edge Community School a ripper time!

As a Christian school we believe it's necessary to come together, corporately, on a daily basis, to pray, read the Word of God, share in a time of Praise and Worship, and learn together about the God in whom we serve.

Our "chapel service" is consequently held on a daily basis. Today I came to the place of thinking "WOW, these kids are getting English, and the Word of God, and love, and I'm just so happy..." We sung my favourite Christian song "At the Cross" (Hillsong) and the kids blasted it with all of their strength. They sang confidently and with passion. Truly, I was blown away.

Today's chapel experience gave me one of those "I can conquer the World" type lifts I needed. The rest of the school day progressed seamlessly and I was able to turn my hand from one thing, to the next, with a smile on my face and peace in my heart.

When Liz arrived home we went to the bank and to pay our electricity bill. No problems at all. The bank gave us the documents we were seeking and the electricity company accepted our credit card. Usually there are long lines, leaving me plenty of time to really stew and get mad. Often times I prepare a speech about the inefficiencies of their system, etc. It's just to pass the time and pratice my angry emotions in Spanish. But no, wasn't to be today. All good on the administrative outing. I was almost disappointed!

When Liz and I returned home, I sat down to commence work on my itinerary for the USA. "Oh boy, Billy's at it again", I thought to myself. His voice blared and at such a high pitch. In he marched with Lorenzy by his side. 


Now Billy is a regular favourite with everyone he meets but can tend to be a bit of a drama, from time to time, and this can get on family members' (me) nerves. However, I began to sense, from the sound in his voice, that something was significantly wrong.

Earlier in the day he'd been stung by a bee. His cry was different then too. It's the sort of thing a parent knows about a child and because I'd just heard it with the bee sting, I was in tune with his pain-cry and ready to pounce on the problem.

"What's the matter Billy?" I asked affectionately. Nothing could have prepared me for what was to happen next. He raised his arm and looked at it in disbelief. "Good Lord, it's hideous!", I lamented. His arm had snapped and was very visibly broken.

I seriously wanted to run, but parental instinct kicked in and love pulled me toward the child and not away. My stomach churned. Honestly, I really don't like medical conditions, even conditions that would have others curiously looking on. "Oh, we've got an owie", I said, as I whisked Billy into my arms and started racing out the door. 

It's oft' times weird how you can concentrate with all your might and yet still be a complete clutz. This is what happened to me in this very moment. Somehow I seemed to be able to come into contact with every item and object between where I'd been sitting and the front door.

Anyhow, within seconds Liz and I were on our way to the hospital. Jocasta, once again, proved herself tremendously valuable as the latest addition to our family. We left with peace, knowing that all would be well upon our return.

We arrived at the hospital and found a car park. No problems for us, as Nicaraguans, on average, don't own cars. We raced to emergency and were seen immediately. Billy was remarkably calm, only emitting the odd whimper. What a trooper!

Billy's X-Ray

We seemed to know everyone at the hospital, as this hospital is the place we go to on a regular basis to pray for, and visit with, sick children.

We met a young lad of 20 years who's wife had just had a baby. Couldn't wipe the smile off his face. His wife arrived mid-conversation, and we couldn't get a smile onto her face. She was tired and looked like she wanted to go home. After having a relatively normal birth, a complication had developed with the baby.The little baby had been admitted to hospital and of course they, the parents of the baby, had to sleep on the floor or the bench, and were only permitted to sleep in the hallway.

We went from doctor to x-ray, to doctor, to x-ray. Finally I had the chance to sit. I slumped into a chair and began to chat with the older, Cuban doctor who sat next to me. We talked about all things Nica. Gallo Pinto, the Cuba revolution, American politics, Mexican culture, Nicaraguan landscape, flora and fauna. It was a thoroughly scintillating time.

The doctors decided that they'd have to correct the fracture, and put the bone back to where it needed to be. Horrified, I looked around me. I wanted to escape, but there just weren't any exits. I fingered the curtain next to me. I couldn't find where one curtain ended and the next began. 


My Cuban friend continued to talk but I wasn't listening. Oh sure, I nodded my head, but that's a tactic I've learnt through years of marriage. Doesn't mean I'm actually listening!

Crack, scream, cry, whimper, sleep. I wanted to throw up. It must have been one of the single-most horrific experiences of my life. Liz, of course, was leaning over watching, asking questions, curious. She made me sick too... As the cast was being applied Billy drifted off to sleep.

When the moment arrived for us to leave, I asked my new Cuban friend what he did at the hospital. Head of pediatrics was the response. Basically, I'd just spent the better half of an hour talking with pretty much the head of the hospital.

I immediately told him about our ministry within the hospital and how we'd like to expand it and help in other ways. He laughed enthusiastically and agreed with me that we could be of more use around the medical centre.

We exchanged details and left the hospital in high spirits. We'd witnessed healing and made new friendships. Liz invited several of the medical staff over for dinner on Saturday night. That will be interesting, because she's not going to be here, we've got no money to purchase food for this auspicious occasion and we have Church on that night.

We got in the car and flew up Carretera Sur. We arrived home in record time. We drove through the gate and noticed that Nestor, our guard, and some of the local lads, had very serious expressions on their faces. However, we'd had a long night and didn't make too much of it.

I dashed inside and began to, again, work on the itinerary for our impending trip to the USA. Minutes later Liz arrived by my side. "One of our neighbours has hacked off his wife's hand with a machete." 


The words my wife spoke floated into my ears and then sat heavily on my heart. "WHAT?" I exclaimed. I didn't need her to repeat the words and new exactly what she'd said, but uttered the programmed response specifically allocated for moments like these.

After talking with our guard for a while longer, we worked out that the couple had fought and the husband had chopped off the wife's hand with a machete. 


I cannot begin to tell you the sense of hopelessness that prevails in Nicaragua. I cannot tell you how many eyes I've looked into and seen despair and emptiness. Honestly, the helplessness is more heartbreaking than the stories of loss. When you look into the eyes of a living person and see death, it begins to make you question. 

Our 5 handsome fellas: Sezni, Billy, Raffy, Brian and Oliver

Our children were none-the-wiser. The police had spoken with our guard and he had not told members of our family. Thank GOD for Nestor, the best security guard in the World!!!

Darling Jocasta, our Creche Director, managed the "fort" whilst Billy was in Hospital

And so, another day at Capital on the Edge. What do we make of all this? Well, we live in a World of uncertainty. What's the old saying? There are two things we can be certain of; death and taxes. It's true. We live in a World that is dying. Everything around us dies. We die. From the moment they are born our children are on a path that leads to a physical death.

Our hope has to be in something that will last eternally. The only eternal security and value for you is Jesus Christ. He gives the gift of life, eternally.

Please pray for us here in Nicaragua. We're short thousands of dollars per month, the poverty which surrounds us is excruciatingly unbearable and we just cannot turn the needs away. We have risked everything of value in this World to reap the harvest, which is of eternal value. Please consider today, supporting us in our mission. We need your help...

POST by RAF: The Cart of Buying

One day my dad and I were having classes. When my dad and I were finished we went to my Friend Oscer's house to see a cart. Oscar is a kid from my class. Then we went home to wait for the cart.

Ding Dong ringed the bell while I was sitting down and eating. Then I got of my bum and ran to the gate. I opened the gate and right in front of me was the cart and then Oscer's dad said call your dad for me for the cart can be yours. I called my dad and my dad bought the cart.

The cart had brown wood. The cart had a hole in the middle to put your feet in. And the cart had two long sticks. All of our horses kan pool the cart.

POST by RENZ: When the Dog Bites, When the Bee Stings, When I pierce My Own Ear!

Scarleth is an eighteen year old friend of mine and she works at Capital Edge community Centre. She is fun and friendly. She is short and has curly hair. She has a sister and her sister’s name is Julissa.

Julissa is fourteen years old and is probably my best friend in the community. Scarleth and Julissa look like they are both fourteen and so some people ask if they are twins. Sometimes it is embarrassing for Scarleth and so she just says yes and that she is older, but other times she will say that Julissa is older or she will say the truth.

Scarleth works as the two year old teacher and does a good job at it. She knows English and Spanish so that helps her teach, however she speaks to the kids in Spanish more than in English. She is a hard worker and loves what she does.

Scarleth has three piercings in her ear. She did all her piercings by herself but after three days (or three weeks I cannot remember), she got earrings placed in her ears.

A few Mondays ago, I had two friends over. Grace, my best friend, a really tall, skinny, red head, freckly girl and Diego, who isn´t tall but not really short either. Diego is not fat but not skinny, he has brown hair, and is Nicaraguan.

There was no school for both of my friends so they came here, to my house. Grace came to help out with the school (and to see me of course) and Diego came to be tutored by my parents after our little school was done.

It was the ending of Tae Kwondo class and we three were sitting outside on my family´s uncomfortable, green couch and talking. We were talking about random things.

I asked Diego “Hey Diego, want to get a piercing?” I asked him just to see what he would say. To my surprise he said yes. So I took him and Grace inside into the bathroom and told him to sit down, but he said no and told me to make myself a piercing.

Now because I am a weirdo, I actually decided to do it. I went into the kitchen and got an ice pack and placed it on my ear.

Once I had waited a while and my ear was numb, I got out an earring and tried to push it through but I couldn’t. I kept on trying with Grace and Diego watching me the whole time.

I finally went to Scarleth and asked her to help me. She told me to go and put ice on it for ten minutes and so I did it. Whilst we were waiting, Scarleth was cleaning a needle with alcohol. Once the ten minutes were were over, I went and sat on the toilet seat.

Scarleth approached me with the needle and some thread on it. She pushed the needle through my ear and then tied the string. It hurt whenever I touched it.

She told me to move the string every day with alcohol so that it didn’t get stuck. That night, I told my mum about what had happened and asked her to help me. She cut the string and tried to put an earring through it but it was too small so she said that she would take me to an actual place where they could do it properly. After that had happened, my ear hurt an awful lot.

POST by SEZ: Easter in Nicaragua

One Tuesday, my Family and I went to the Vinson's house their names are: Sean, Jean, Grace, Katherine, Felicity, and Malachi. The Vinson have the same  noses, and eyes as each other, and  they are  from America. They were going to have an Easter egg hunt, and we were going to have an Easter egg hunt too because it's April and you hide the Easter  Eggs.

The adults hid the eggs. Most of the eggs had lollies but there was a golden egg with two dollars inside.  Billy, my brother, was looking and he found the golden egg. I was so happy for Billy.   I found three fish eggs  and my friend Hunter gave me one purple shark egg,  they all had lollies inside.

Then we had a swimming competition. Raf, Hudson, Malachi, Hunter, Harrison, and I did a diving competition. I beat all the boys!  

We played eight ball pool, and we ate Hot Dogs and Brownies, and  then at 8:30, we went all the way home on the horses.  I was on Rafi's horse named Oreo.

That was so cool.

POST by FRAN: BMX Bandit No Longer

I have a lot of hobbies, but one of them is bike riding. I´m not talking about a bike that one would ride to the park, I´m TALKING about a motor bike. I learnt how to ride with Eduardo, the youth pastor here at Capital on the Edge.

My Dad owns a red motor bike and he never wanted to teach me how to ride, no matter how hard I tried to convince him, he just wouldn´t teach me! I really, REALLY wanted to learn how to ride, but Dad wouldn´t teach me!

Eduardo and a friend of mine, named Luis, both taught me at separate times. Luis showed me all the important things like where the brakes are and Eduardo got me going. It´s really fun to ride the motor bike, and now I´m not scared and have confidence.

The first time I rode the bike with Eduardo on the back of the bike I tried not to think that I was going to fall, instead I thought ¨WOW I feel like an eagle, soaring through the sky! ¨ I honestly think that riding a motor bike here in Nicaragua is like riding a horse, because the roads here are bumpy and have a few ditches!

THE FOUR MOST IMPORTANT THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW

Accelerating: When Eduardo taught me how to accelerate I kept stalling and it made me a little frustrated. It took me at least a week just to learn how to accelerate without stalling, and I do still stall sometimes.

·      

Braking: The brake confused me the most; it is hard when you only have the back brake. First of all you need to use your foot to brake and second you have to pull on the clutch, which is like a bicycle brake.

     

Starting/turning off: My Dad´s motor bike has the kick starting stick, but it also can start by pushing a little orange button with a lightning bolt on it, located on the right handle of the bike, but you need to turn the key to make sure that the bike is on. Using the little button you start faster and can get on and go but you need to turn the bike off correctly or else you will mess up the bike. The way you turn off the bike is by flipping a switch that is located on top of the start button and then turning the key and taking it out of its spot.

Gear changing: The gear stick is a plank that your FOOT pushes up and down. It sits right under your left foot. You start in neutral. For 1^st gear you need to push down once, for 2^nd gear you pull up once, 3^rd gear you push up once again, and for 4^th gear you also push up. 4^th gear is the highest gear you can reach and it also is the fastest.

Imagine… it took me at least a month to learn how to do these simple but hard steps, confusing isn’t it. Now I can ride a motor bike without any problems at all.

POST by JED: Jesus = Fiesta!

The Brien Family

Let me tell you about my day!

Friday had been a long one. We'd schooled in the morn, had folks from our barrio in for Tae Kwondo and a swim in the arvo, delivered an excellent children's message "Calming Storms", worshiped the Lord with the kids from our streets, and in the evening held a catwalk-off for the jovenes (youth) and watched a short film the "Butterfly Circus". It'd been a cracker of a day, but by 2am we were whooped, exhausted, ready-to-hit-the-sack, done. We fell into bed and were flat-out asleep in seconds.

"No! It can't be", I thought. "gaaaaaaaaah! What time is it? 5:30am! No! Neveeeeeeer!!!" As a family we've decided that Saturday mornings are family only - without exceptions... Well, I guess with the exceptions of Rodrigo (mentally challenged lad from down the way), our foster boys (who regularly walk back to our house from their parent's house as they are oft times left unattended for the entire weekend) and anyone who brings hot, steaming coffee and cinnamon scrolls (usually gringos, but that one is open to all creatures great and small. 

To be true, I'd welcome Hannibel Lecter if he offered me a gourmet treat (and promised to keep his teeth off our pimple free, caucasian, Aussie/Nica tanned skin)). I rolled over and went back to sleep. 

"Ding Dong" went the doorbell a second time. "Golly gosh, who could it be?" It's interesting to note that I was able to fall asleep some time shortly after 5:30am and be woken again at 5:32am. I wondered what good that less than 2 minute nap did for me, or if I really was asleep. No, I'm certain I was, because I made all the same comments and had all the same questions in my head,  "No! It can't be! Gaaaaaaaaah! What time is it? 5:32am, 5:thirty twooooooo aaaaaaaammmmmmmmmmm!!!"

I rolled over and fell out of bed. Lizzie and I used to fight over who should get out of bed in the morning but we've since given up. Our initial game plan was to fain sleep, even as Francesca would navigate her 20 month old body from her place of slumber to ours, and then climb all over us, with at least one foot treading forcefully upon one of our private parts, complete with nappy being gently guided across one of our faces, like a cool flannel on a hot summer's day. (not at all!) 


We'd just lie there, pretending to sleep so as to fool the opposition, keeping our eyes closed and making sure our breathing kept rhythm, steady and strong. But we soon learnt each other's sick trickery.

So then we started to fight about it. "I got out of bed last time!" and "Well you don't have work tomorrow!", etc. It was all quite petty and is rather humorous to reminisce about now, because it took more energy to fight than just to answer the door, or get the kid a bottle, or turn the telly volume down. (We didn't have a telly until we moved to New York, and then it barely got a rest. Fran had busy little fingers and her favourite trick was turning up "Sesame Street" so that Mummy would attend her)

Now it just seems to make sense. It's either you're going to work anyway, so get out of flippin bed. Or, it's Saturday morning and I don't have to go to work, so I'm not getting out of bed. There is no acting and there is no drama, one of us, nearly always me, just gets up and goes to task. And this is where I found myself on this particular Saturday morning.

So I trotted out the gate not knowing what to expect upon my arrival. It was Rodrigo. He has some kind of mental incapacity, and we're not sure exactly what it is. I reckon it's some type of autism. His hands spasm and he can barely talk, but besides that he is fine.

The other kids think he's hilarious and he can stare anyone out. That's quite a talent! However, things can derail with Rodrigo, especially when it comes time for him to leave our house. He doesn't voluntarily skip out the door - he has to be coerced. That can be difficult, and our family really feels quite terribly for him. He's a lovely free spirit, yet at times we need him to be free elsewhere.

And so he wanted to swim. "No! Rodrigo, No! Cinco y media en la manana. No es possible. Mas tarde, por favor, maaas taaaaaardeee." Now my Spanish is still practically non-existent but I think he got the idea, especially when the door closed and he was unable to to see me anymore. I went back to bed.

I was driving tantilizingly in-and-out of sumptuous sleepyville, dreaming of Qantas Airways and Delta (that's another story) when "ding dong"... "grrrrrrrr, well, I'll huff and Iiiii'll puff! By joves I'll BLOW THAT KID DOOOOOOOOWN to Costa Rica!!!" 


I stomped out of bed, nearly breaking a toe as I stormed out the door (my toe connected with the door frame and being stubbornly mad, I drove it on through...Youch!). I opened the door, still scowling and mad, but looked directly into the face of innocence and joy.

He leapt at me hugging and laughing. I melted. He is beautiful. "Okay, Rodrigo... Banarse y nadarse..." He ran to the shower, hopped in-and-out (barely even getting wet) and jumped into the freezing cold pool. (it's the hottest time of year, in the second hottest capital city of the World... The pool temperature is akin to saliva, even on the coldest nights...)

Rodrigo is easy to love. He needs love. He wants love. He returns love. For us overseas missionary types, he is perfect, because he embraces all of our actions and understands from the heart why we are here in Nicaragua - to be a blessing and to help. That's about it. But what about the ones who don't want us here? In my opinion, the vast majority of Nicaraguans...

Saturday rapidly became hectic. Here and there, running, running, running. I was delighted when it was time to visit the loo, as  it was a chance for several minutes of uninterrupted "knock, knock, knock" someone at the door. "Yes" I half whispered. "Oh Jed, good, it's you..." (????????????? My wife is typically British at times... I mean seriously, who else would it be? And can this not wait? Apparently not...) "Where are the car keys?"

Now when I used to work at Flight Centre, I'd frequently embarrass myself by not being able to find things which were right in front of me. My manager, Annie, a Kiwi, used to say I was having a "boy look". It's true - we men are useless at finding objects! We so often cannot find things that the felines of this World are able to see, they don't even have to get up - they just know where the objects we're looking for are!! But all that changed when the babies came. Now Liz is as useless as me. 

"Ummm... Well I can't see them in here. Are they on the hook where they're meant to be?" Ten seconds of stalling time... "No! They're not there, I just looked..." I finished up my administrative tasks (paperwork) and together we tore the house apart. I eventually found them in Liz's handbag, which was in the car. She took off, with one child still getting in.

I tidied up and tried to get ready for the evening. We were to sing at our Church's Crusade being held for our local Community. Because we can sing in key (no comments please family members) they basically think we're the most amazing thing ever and always ask us to sing wherever we go and for every service. 


So a warning to any of you planning a visit to Nicaragua, get ready to sing! It doesn't matter what, cause most often they don't understand the words. You could sing "SOS" by Rhianna and no one would be any the wiser, nor would there be a dry eye in the house. And so I had to prepare translated lyrics, and the music on our PC, and get the kids into suitable clothing. (nothing dirty or with holes)

Our night also included attending a quinceanera. Now for those of you who don't know, a quinceanera is the most important day of a Latina girl's life. It's the day she becomes a woman. It's the day she turns 15. Our daughter is to have her quinceanera in November of this year, and I am OFFICIALLY FREAKING OUT! (everyone's invited - come on down/over)

So Liz arrives home amid a flurry of excitement. There are 105 costume changes between the 3 young ladies. (well, middle aged, teenaged and pre-teen) The boys, who had been directed to change into dinner wear post-haste (due to our tardiness), now sat clumsily on the couch, rolling eyes and occasionally starting to wrestle, before being subdued by a passing costume changer's overpowering resonance of perfume, which completely suffocates a young man's senses. (having a different affect on pre-teen and post-teen fellas)

"We can't be late, we can't be late!" We walked out the gate of our house an hour and a half late. We strolled along to the corner of our block and made a sharp left turn. The road was muddy, it had rained a few nights before. We walked for another 45 seconds and arrived at the entrance to the paddock. We looked over at the shanty town where members of this one family all live.

We entered the paddock. We knew we were heading in the right direction, because besides all of the litter, the curling, uncontrolled barbed wire, and the smelly, mangy dogs, there were pretty pink ribbons and balloons everywhere. It was like they'd gone to the tip (dump) and spray painted everything pink and purple. Simply Adorable!

We get to the other side of the paddock. It was a stark contrast. On one side there is humanity (squalor and rubbish), whilst on the other side lives nature. (Rich rain forest flora and fauna) At this point, considering I was finding it difficult to remain standing on account of the base surging through the ground, I think I'd have preferred to dance into the woods.

But I didn't, I entered the devil's lair instead. Again, quite a comparison. A shed used for who knows what had been transformed into a shed used for who knows what and lots of pink and purple decorations. Thankfully, although we were an hour and a half late, we do live in Latin America and were consequently the first ones to arrive.

The children pulled down some balloons and began to play "keep it up", a game where the balloon cannot touch the floor. We took a million and one photographs before we realised that the party (similar to a wedding party... The 15 year old girl must have 14 attendees, all dressed up, representing her 14 years of life. She, herself, makes the 15th person and hence the 15 years of life are complete. It's ghastly, almost as gaudy as one of those Californian style weddings, complete with 8 bridesmaids and groomsmen...) had arrived and were about to enter "the great hall".

The children in the "party" were clearly overdressed and looked very uncomfortable. They had arrived in a microbus from the Catholic Church where they were blessed by the priest. There were only a couple of supervising adults in attendance. The children stood in line, atop the mud and dust that constituted the pretty pink paddock.

I couldn't resist. I got out my camera and click, click, click. Nobody was there to observe. The single mother who saved for years to pay for this entire night of extravagance couldn't afford a taxi from the Church to the party. Abuela (the grandmother) was still cooking in their floorless shack.

There were fires everywhere, burning up the rubbish and debris. Hopefully the fires would be smoldering when the action started. I took many photos, knowing that the mother, who's son is a student in our school, would appreciate the photographs when the party was over and there was only mess left for her to clean up. This woman walks alone...

We enjoyed the procession, the initial waltz, taking more photographs and then we headed out. Most of the children quickly change into clothes they were more comfortable in. "It's really disappointing that Mum won't get to see them all dressed up", I thought to myself.

We arrived at the Church realising that the Crusade was not really for the community, but more of a show for the community. Everything was outside, and to pad out the numbers the Church has invited lots of other Churches, within the same denomination, to attend. Yes, our Church was packed, but mostly with people from other Churches, in other locations.

I chatted with our good friend, Juan-pee. (Juan Pablo) He explained that the chord for our computer was broken. We wouldn't be able to sing with accompaniment. "That's okay", I said "we'll sing acapella". (A lump formed in my throat. Not the type of lump you'd think could make you sound more masculine, or throaty... The kind of lump that stops the air from getting through and makes you sound like a 5 year old girl...) 

The time came, after many-a-song, for Liz and I to sing. We reached the front and give it our all. First, "Mighty to Save" and then... Now we'd practiced for several days to get this straight, it's always best to be well prepared right? Wrong! Liz started out on the wrong song. 


With all she had, she sung. She went high, she went low, she was alive! And then she realised... We'd practiced "Jesus, Lover of My Soul" several times but Liz started off with "Shout to the Lord". She grabbed my hand. This action was endearing to our audience, "Oh, they love Jesus and each other! Adorable..." But I knew the real reasoning behind this gesture... "HELP!!!"

I let her go, feeling well humoured... However, halfway through the song Liz doubled over and started laughing. I took over and did all of my best Darlene mimicking, and then stopped. How could Liz not even know the words? We'd sung the song no less than a million times and she had sung it in ENGLISH, no more!

Liz turned to walk off the stage, but I couldn't... My feet just wouldn't... I wanted to nail the song we'd come to sing. We were wanting to give our best to the Lord and so far we'd only offered a half-time-laugh-til-you-cry-spectacle. I sung my guts out and Liz joined me halfway.

I sang in Spanish and Lizzie sang in English. It was eclectic but worked. We had come to do what we'd promised and we finished on a high note (excuse the pun, and no, we didn't literally finish on a high note, we're not idiots and know our limitations... Of which there are many!)

We returned to the quinceanera. What a sight. Outside the building teens lay strewn around, high as kites on either very cheap alcohol, glue, marijuana or whatever drug they'd found to inflict abuse upon themselves. We entered and were delighted to find quite the opposite. The building was a hive of activity, it even felt like the walls were jumping out at us. (which could have been the case, on account of the music volume)

Liz and the girls immediately found young men willing to lead them to the dance floor. I had a thirty second jive with Lizzie but had to contend with our tired little boys. I threw Sez over my shoulders, between my legs and twirled the kid around-and-around but he was just too pooped. 


I sat down next to one of the twins. We laughed as we looked at all the different people on the dance floor. The moves, the gesticulations, the faces, the sweat, the exhaustion, energy, filth, fashion and fun! Hooooooooooo, what a night...

This was where our community was! Our Church had held a crusade for their community and none of them turned up. They were enjoying life. They were loving each other. They were celebrating.

Where would Jesus have been, in the Church or at the Quince? We had the best night of our lives. We danced until our feet were sore. The girls were passed from boy-to-boy (and without inappropriateness - I was staring them down). They were spun in one direction, thrown in another and all the while they built the foundations of lasting friendship with these, their neighbours.

Who are your neighbours? Ever had them over for dinner? Ever taken them a birthday present? Do you wave to them? What kind of witness will you be in their life if you're not their friend? Jesus was a friend to the sinner - that's you, your neighbour, the faceless people you pass on the street, your coworkers, your Dad, your daughter, your romantic interest, everyone... He just asks that you do the same... Love the people around you!