POST by FRAN: Nasty Nights & Nits

Rene, Jonny & Beycker celebrate being Nit-free

There are nine rooms in our whole house, with eighteen people sleeping in seventeen beds, some rooms are shared and some have only one person in them. All eighteen of us have ONE thing in common and hats, hugs and hair all shared that ONE thing...

‘CHOMP, CHOMP, CHOMP’ I can imagine them in Yader’s jungle-like hair! CHOMPING their way through, down to his scalp and swinging as they scream “ahhaaaaaaaaaaa” like Jorge of the Jungle (parental note: can you see the Latino flavour making it's way?). I think you know what I’m talking about, little critters... NITS! I didn’t ask for them, I don’t need them, I don’t want them!

Raf giving the nits their marching orders

Nits are probably the most non-wanted insects in the world, they make your head itch and they lay eggs in your hair! We all want to get rid of them and we say, “why do nits even exist?” And if you were Eliazer you’d probably say “I DUNNO!” You have to try dodging them when they get too close, and when they hit your house you need to get out the weapons! Yes, it is time to extinguish the itchy, little bugs!

But it didn’t start like this, we had no idea... We were all...Normal... Without an infestation! Our days were normal days; school work, pick up kids, tricking class, etc... We walked around without any annoyance at all, no itching - well I wasn’t itching, but Rene was. So that’s where it started, with Rene.

Rene always wears a blue and white hat that everyone uses whenever they want and absolutely EVERYONE uses it! Bit by bit the itching passed on from person to person but it didn’t leave, it stayed - those nits just wanted to move in!

First Rene, then Eliazer, then Yader, then Beycker... until they got all the way to Rafi! EVERYONE in the house had them. What was once normal became ‘scratch, scratch, SCRACH!!!!’ and that SCHRATCHING came from everybody's heads.

Yader shows his enthusiasm at the death of all Capital Edge nits

Now catching them is very, very easy. But getting rid of them is like playing Green Sleeves for the very first time on a keyboard, you can try but you won't really succeed. Mum posted on her facebook wall “I need ten creative and successful ways to get rid on nits and PRONTO!”

People came up with a lot of funny things but Mum picked Olive Oil, Vaseline and Off-Insect Repellant. We all then had to cover our hair with a stylish, supermarket plastic bag. So on Tuesday afternoon she started... with me, then Lorenzy... Around 6:30 she finished with herself. She did fourteen out of the eighteen people that live in our house!

We had planned to go out but not with our heads covered in voluminous plastic and with oil running down our backs - we decided to pass. So Dad, Eliazer and Yader went out to the store and got some fizzy drinks and ice cream so we could had a little party at our house.

Fran making the most out of Nit-Night

The boys started a game that you had to walk around in circles on your hands and who ever went further won; Beycker won because all he does is walk on his hands.

We all stunk like tropical insect repellant and we had to sleep in the lovely plastic bag, and that evolved into the worst night sleep ever! All I could hear was a crackling noise in my ear! Eventually my eyes slid shut and I drifted off to sleep. The plague of nits slowly left our rather large family and soon we will be nit free!!!

The Nit-Busters

Politics: Will a Chavez Victory Fulfill Nicaragua's Megaproject Dreams?

“Chávez needs to focus on increasing his country’s level of oil production and investing in logistics for the future. This project is a no-brainer; it’s the perfect arrangement because Nicaragua is an ideological ally and the refinery will give Chávez strategic access to the Chinese market, ” says Nicaraguan political analyst Arturo Cruz, President Daniel Ortega’s former ambassador to Washington and a professor of political science at INCAE.

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Politics: Venezuela's Chavez Wins Presidential Race

Since taking power in 1999, the flamboyant former soldier has become a global flag-bearer of "anti-imperialism," gleefully baiting the United States government while befriending leaders from Iran to Belarus whom the West views with suspicion.

At home, casting himself as an heir to independence hero Simon Bolivar, Mr Chavez has poured billions of oil revenues into anti-poverty programs, and skilfully used his humble roots and folksy oratory to build a close connection with the masses.

While that connection ensured his re-election, the opposition's big share of the vote reflected a real and growing anger at Mr Chavez's failure to fix basic problems such as violent crime, potholed roads, electricity blackouts and entrenched corruption at all levels.

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POST by JED: Planes, Trains & Automobiles - Part 8

Growing up in YWAM (Youth With A Mission) I was often left flabbergasted by the stories others had to tell about their "God-sighting" experiences. They'd seen him move powerfully, overcoming natural circumstances, supernaturally.

There were the testimonies every Thursday morning at our "base" meetings, usually by the same ladies (no less), whose aging, bulging, wobbling, chicken wings would get more attention than their stories. 

The God-sighting narratives were many and the content varied widely. Some graphically relayed how they'd prayed for children on outreach in Bombay and witnessed the restoration of sight before their very own eyes.

Others would see from God directly, 3 minutes before the meeting, a vision: we needed to immediately pray for the release of some YWAM director, who was being detained and beaten by the KGB, somewhere behind the Iron Curtain - amazingly, days later, we'd receive words of such a tale from afar.

Still others would throw themselves upon the alter testifying that they'd laid hands on the facility's retro washing machine, believing and pleading with God for cleaner smalls upon retrieval, and Hallelujah, this too had come to pass (no pun intended).

There were also the books. The Bible for starters and those written by the likes of Brother Andrew, Jackie Pullinger, Lauren Cunningham, etc. These people had prayed for healthy eyes to be momentarily blinded - and it was so; they'd believed for safety in gang filled streets - and hey presto, the Lord moved powerfully on their behalf; they'd submitted prayers for boats, buildings, Bibles and brides - yup, you guessed it, they got the lot.

One night, as I drifted peacefully into an 11 year old dream world, with the background screams of demonic deliverance at the hand of Noel Gibson, emanating from the guest speaker room below, I started to wonder whether I had "the power."

I looked at the window and started to believe that I was supernaturally experiencing discomfort, on account of the room's physically constraining stuffiness (probably on account of my brother's heavy breathing, or physical wind passing, or some other such supernatural lark).

I slowly raised my slender, 11-year-old shaking hand to supernatural levels and began to first quietly, then loudly scream, calling on the God of the UNIVERSE to cause the Heavenly hosts to stir (possibly distracting them momentarily in St. Petersburgh, Kowloon and Kona),  to paranormally lift the wooden structure - physically bound, to it's innermost potential.

My body began to convulse, the action permeating from my innermost core, the stomach region. I was in some sort of spiritual trance. All at once my body was literally being raised, divinely, until my torso nearly touched the ceiling. 

Then, as if that wasn't enough to completely seal my book deal and itinerant speaking ministry, I heard a voice, which could only be described as ungodly, scream from the very depths of my holy, sanctified, chambre à coucher, "shut-up I tell you, SHUT-UP and GO TO SLEEP!"

This "demon" was more evil than I could have ever imagined. Clearly very angry that I was unleashing all of Heaven to liberate my physical suffering. The convulsing stopped momentarily, and the demon raised it's ghastly, putrid, ugly head to my physical locale on the top bunk, "Shut up" it said, "or I'll go and tell Mum!" 

I lowered my hand, closed my eyes, and went to sleep.

Since that time I´ve seen the Lord move in many ways, though usually not when or for what I´ve asked. God is all-powerful and has his reasons, I certainly don´t think of him as a magic wand, like we sometimes witness in the World around us, or dare I say, at times in our Churches.

The most significant experience of God moving about me occurred when we´d first arrived in Nicaragua. Our house was robbed. Nearly everything was taken, from hair gel in the bathroom, to the gas bottle in the kitchen, the laptop in our loungeroom and clothes from our bedrooms. It was a great moment in our lives, pivotal in fact, because we started looking to the Lord and started to shift our focus to our true calling in Nicaragua.

We wrote a brief note on facebook and the response was awesome and completely unexpected. We were given things here in Nicaragua, and sent money from Australia, the UK, the USA and other places. A couple of missionaries here in Nicaragua even donated some money. We felt very blessed to have so many people praying for us and contributing to our household needs.

The most exciting gift out of the many displays of love we'd born witness, was from a woman we´d never seen before, never met in any way, and in an Asian country we hadn´t visited for many years.

To me, it was a God-sighting. This woman from Asia became friends with a chap living in Managua, who took university courses online and taught an hour-long class, per day, at NCA (the Nicaragua Christian Academy). His beautiful wife taught third grade fulltime at NCA, and for two reasons was a blessing to me personally, because; A.) She continued the lineage of perfect teachers for our son who has Asperger's Syndrome and; B.) she supported Liz and I during probably the most difficult year of our lives.

This person from Asia, had never met this gentleman or his wife either. It was the most amazing thing. The two people, living on different continents, had been drawn together through a mutual desire to see souls won for the Kingdom of God – the Asian person began to support this American couple, who were living in Nicaragua.

And so, the two parties who had never even met, chatted about the severity of our situation. The person from Asia´s heart went out to us and the decision was made to give us a one-off gift of $200. I was blown away. A person, from the other side of the World, who had never met a person - whom we barely even knew, had decided to give us money, not for the work we were doing in Nicaragua, but to bless us in a time of intense personal need.

And so, through this testimony of God´s faithfulness, love and compassion, my hope was restored in a God who cares deeply for us and moves on our behalf - boy does HE move.

On our summer trip to the US, this past July, we were in New York and starting to get into the rhythm of visiting Churches. We´d already visited two in Minnesota and one in New York. Liz took a day to visit the zoo with her brother and his in-laws, and all of our kids.

From left to right: Kreg (Craig), Chrissy, Sez, Liz, Tadhg, Lukey, Allegra, Renz, Jaime, some random, Margie, Raf

I slept, and slept, and slept until noon, completely missing the frivolities of the zoo – just on that, I have always had HEAPS of energy – where does it all go? I´m 36 now and desperately wanting to book my retirement condo in Florida…

Time for another God-sighting. Liz was late, nothing new there. We needed to get to Lakeshore Community Church and quick. Liz had promised she´d be back in time, but who  could blame her – she´d never even met her little nephew and niece (pray for them, they're still in therapy!).

Liz on Safari in Rochester's Zoo (New York)

I printed off the directions from mapquest and jumped in Shane and Jen´s car. The tyres started spinning and vroom, I was away.

Lakeshore Community Church is an independent Church, and quite a big one at that. I pulled into the carpark and found myself a spot (very easy to do at American Churches on a weekday – massive car parks with only the pastor(s), the secretary, and administrators using them).

Beth and Liz pulled in, right as I finished fixing my crew-cut (I´d cut the boys hair in Nicaragua and promised them, if they didn´t like their hair, that I´d let them cut mine – I hadn´t expected the razor to touch my skull though - perfect when trying to present a wholesome image to pastors and parishioners you've never even met in a country not your own…).

We entered the newish Church building and felt a wave of cool - air-conditioning, ah to be an American. The reception lady was beautifully welcoming - politely telling us to sit and wait, then grabbing us some of the most delicious coffee we'd ever tasted.

Within moments we were being greeted by Ken. This chap was the Church's missions director. Ken was recently retired and desirous of serving his Church, and so the lead pastor, Vince, had suggested he take on the role of managing the Church's missions profile.

It was an offer too good to refuse. Ken was tall, strong and highly organised, features I loathe in a missions director. I prefer them short, weak and in complete confusion - it makes sharing our vision and building a partnership much easier when someone can't say "no."

Ken took us for a walk around the Church and we were impressed. Vince, the lead pastor, is an Italian, hence the place oozes with a sense of hospitality, class and style, in every room of the structure.  This Church takes its role in the community very seriously, and so there is also a feeling of functionality. 

We were impressed to learn that Lakeshore Community Church already has a presence in Nicaragua through the Orphan Network (everyone seems to be heading to Haiti these days, a country in desperate need. Though Nicaragua is second to Haiti, in terms of poverty, and it is rare to find a Church who can even place Nicaragua on a map, let alone supports them). 

We were also impressed to learn that the Church involves its members in a third world food distribution project, where materials are packaged right there at the Church.

Ken showed us the gym and the youth rooms, the cafe and the auditorium - tizzy to say the least... I thought to myself, "If we were back in Rochester, I'd be tempted to attend this Church myself!”

We finally made our way back to the conference room, where we sat with Ken to discuss our mission. We did our best job, less standing on the conference table to sing "Perfume a Tus Pies."

Of course, Ken had said from the outset, that there would be little-to-no-chance of the Church supporting our Nicaraguan ministry, due to their current budget and existing relationships. It was a familiar tune for us - we eventually hummed the conclusion again. We acknowledged that it was "ta-tah-for-now" and took our leave.

We exited the building and were immediately confronted by the most bizarre man we'd ever met. The chap wanted to argue with us about why Mormons are Christians and why Lakeshore Community Church should let the Mormon's sing at their Church (just wait a few months, there might be Mormons singing at every Church!). 

Because our meeting had seemingly come to none, I almost wanted to agree with the fellow, but took some time to explain, from my perspective, the difference between the Mormon religion, and the one true God.

Now I didn't meet Pastor Vince on this occasion, but had explored the Church's website and knew what he and his dear wife looked like. The following Sunday we visited another Church and took our seats at the rear of the auditorium.

We didn't know it but we were sitting right behind Pastor Vince and his wife. We praised and we worshipped and then we jumped on the stage to do our thing. Rah-rah-rah this and blah-blah-blah that. We had invited a couple of people and I was searching for them and for anyone else I might know. Then I saw Pastor Vince.

It wasn't an initial "OH MY GOLLY-GOSH, LOOK WHO 'TIS," oh no. It was a midlife "whir, whir, whir, data-processing, whir, whir, whir, ba-HA!... Now I know who it is!" We finished up and the usual crush ensued. 

"I know someone from Honduras," and "I've been to Nepal," and our personal favourite, "My brother's, wife's, sister's husband went to Nicaragua before he was born in his mother's stomach - it was only because they were connecting with a flight to Costa Rica, but..." etc.

We glided through the well-wishers to chat with Pastor Vince, but were stopped at every corner. Finally, he came to us. We chatted considerately, in a pastoral tone, laughing at just the right moments and with correct intensity so as to not seem overly excited, all the while wanting to clonk him and his wife over the head and drag them into another room (caveman style) for a serious, no-nonsense, chat about God, Church and missions.

It wasn't to be. We exchanged details and returned to our "do they eat fried rice?" questions with the sincere and completely adorable folk who were keen to glean from our experiences.

The following day the pastor of the Church we had just visited bumped into Pastor Vince at the shops. It was providential. God was building the intricate web of relationship. The two talked further about our mission and Pastor Vince insinuated that God was doing something.

We contacted the Church office, but alas, Pastor Vince was on holidays for a month - a tradition their family had formed years ago for their summers, so as to not become burnt out. "Ah-pooh," I thought to myself. "Maybe the three meetings in the space of a week was just a coincidence."

I e-mailed the Church and asked that the e-mail be forwarded Pastor Vince, even though he was "away."

We zipped off to California and returned a week later. To our delight, surprise and unbearable excitement, Pastor Vince had replied, personally - though via his chirpy receptionist, that we were to have coffee and NOT at Starbucks (YAY!).  

We arrived on time, just prior to another appointment with another large Rah-cha-cha Church, but they arrived in typical southern European style, a tad bit late (Mama mia, why hadn't I thought of that! - arriving late, so fashionable, so intensely cultured. I have so much to learn...).

The meeting was awesome, probably one of the best we experienced in America. Pastor Vince and his wife were loving, frank, realistic, thoughtful, articulate, uncomplicated, and shared from humble hearts. Again they trumped us! We tried to mirror their words and behaviours but alas, they were clearly of better stock. We walked away feeling more learned and thoroughly blessed.

And then, back in Managua, in another hair pulling, sweat evoking, swear word forming, financially bankrupt moment, we received an e-mail from our brother Ken - missions director at Lakeshore Community Church. The e-mailed informed us that the Church was to send us $1,000 as a once-off gift, to help off-set some of our bizarre though necessary, missions expenses. Thank you Lord and thank you Lakeshore Community Church!

The many encounters with Lakeshore Community Church, all added together, made this for us, an extraordinarily awesome God-sighting story. They're terrific people serving the Lord in their corner of the Earth and we're trying to do our bit in Heavenly and at times, hostile, Nicaragua. 

Our testimony is that we commit our ways to Him and he continues to bless us. It isn't always lightening strikes and volcanic eruptions, but he is always with us, guiding and delivering us.

"The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand." (Psalm 37: 23-24)

POST by LIZ: Capsized

Sitting in the Pearson/Scotts Foresman workshop for English teachers, the instructor of the session enthusiastically read to us a children´s story about a chap who owned a boat. In her chirpy, I-once-was-an-elementary-teacher-but-now-I´m-the-guru-teacher-of-teachers´ voice, she read the children´s genre literature to us.

The owner of the boat planned to travel to the other side of the lake – as he was about to set sail, an animal came along and asked if he could come too, “Sure” came the reply, and the animal climbed into the boat.

The man was about to set sail with his newly made friend, when more animals came; the man permitted more and more animals into his boat. 

Very soon the boat was overflowing, yet the man could not turn the animals away and kept accepting them to join him in his boat, stating that they could always make room for one more. The boat swayed, and tilted, then suddenly capsized. All the animals and the man fell into the water and they laughed and laughed and laughed.  

She closed the book, pushed her spectacles up, cocked her head to one side, and moved her lips into a wry smile, “Isn´t this a wonderful story! I always read this to children," she sighed. Now, how can we embolden children to get more depth out of this story? How can we encourage them to connect the text to text, then text to self?” 

She continued to rhetorically quiz us as she paced around the room (and yes, I did pick up that her pacing was a practical example of a method she taught us in our morning session workshop, “Methods on How to Engage Students in the Classroom”).

She came to a halt.  “What qualities did the man possess?” she asked, then opened up her hands to us as an indicator she had finished with the rhetorical questioning and now wanted participation (Another theory practically utilised).

The first hand shot up.  The instructor´s slight nod prompted the hand raiser to respond, “He was friendly.” 

“Yes – but what specific information from the story could you use to back up your point?” was her reply. 

“Well, he invited others to join him,” 

“Good, Good” she cooed.   

Another hand shot up. Before I could raise my water bottle to my lips, there had been a range of responses, all stating that the man displayed a variety of good and kind qualities.

I was sitting three rows back from where the instructor was positioned and thought, “Geez, I hope she doesn´t call on me, coz I think the man´s stupid!” and I did truly think that.  I mean, he didn´t get to accomplish his task of getting to the other side of the lake because of his foolish, unwise decisions to continue to accept animals onto his boat, despite the warning signs of rocking and tilting. And while the conversation thrived on how good and kind the man was, I decided then and there that I would NEVER read such an irresponsible story to any student or child of mine!

I often think back to this moment as I live my day-to-day life.

Today, we live in a five bedroom house, and have made the laundry room into a bedroom for Sezni.  We raised his bed to the ceiling with tires acting as a ladder (which reminds me of something they had rigged up at Bristol Zoo for the monkey´s) We use the floor space of his bedroom to place the school´s food storage boxes.

We also have a casita which has two bedrooms, and we turned the small shed into another bedroom, which hosts a home-made wooden bunk-bed.

To date, we now have six official Briens, Billy, Brian and Oliver who sleep inside the main house.  We also house eight teenage boys and occasionally a few of the neighborhood lads. Our full house reminds me of the man and his boat!

At times, I feel the swaying and tilting – and other times it feels like everything has capsized, but I can now finally see why the man and his passengers laughed and laughed and laughed.   

So many times in my life I have focused too much on getting to the final destination, yet I´m seeing now that it´s more about the NOW moments and relationships that we form and build than it is about getting to the end of our journey. 

In the words of Ossie Chambers, “It is the process, not the end, which is glorifying to God…What men call training and preparation, God calls the end…God´s end is to enable me to see that HE can walk on the chaos of my life just now.  If we have a further end in view, we do not pay sufficient attention to the immediate present: if we realize that obedience is the end, then each moment as it comes is precious.”  

Wrecked in a Car Accident: Meet Pastor Norlan

Norlan is our Pastor in Barrio Local. To quote another missionary, ¨he is a true pastor.¨ People come from all over Managua to attend Church, in his tiny, filthy, dilapidated building.

Pastor Norlan believes in our vision for Barrio Loco, Solis & Cedro Galan, as we determine to evangelise, disciple and send out a generation of missionaries from Nicaragua to the World. He is a Champion for the cause of the Gospel, leaving Worldly pursuits by-the-way.

Capital on the Edge, through a generous supporter in Queensland, supports Norlan’s son, so that he may attend university.

Pastor Norlan's son, Norlan - Supported by a Generous Queenslander so that he may attend University

Two years ago Pastor Norlan was travelling in a vehicle wrecked as a result of drink driving. Pastor Norlan was rushed to hospital with many injuries, the most significant was his arm, which doctors considered amputating. They managed to save his arm, and Pastor Norlan has had 5 operations on his limb since the accident.

Pastor Norlan has movement in his arm, though it is very weak, and almost useless. Doctors have said in order to reduce pain and increase mobility and strength, Pastor Norlan needs another operation to place a permanent rod in his arm. This special surgery is not covered under socialist health and the bill requiring payment is $400.

In addition to this, the doctors have prescribed medication for Pastor Norlan, which is not discounted in any way, unlike most readily available medicines in Nicaragua. The ongoing cost is currently $50 per month. Without this medication, the pain is intolerable and the healing process more difficult.

Pastor Norlan told me about the surgery and medication last Saturday night. I immediately told him to book the surgery as we will pay for it. We do not have the funds to cover this operation.

Today we ask you to consider supporting Norlan so that he may receive this greatly needed operation and so that we can support this amazing Christian brother with his health costs, which he only incurred as a result of being in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

This man is a part of our Church family. We need to give him our every assistance so that he can continue ministering to his people (he is not supported in any way via missionaries or from people/organisations in first world countries).

If you would like to help in ANY way, please contact us: CapitalontheEdge@gmail.com

Jonny Visits Honduras to Break

Bboy - Jonny Standing on his Hands

Please pray for Jonny. We have sent him to Honduras for a Break-Dance competition. He has just committed his life to the Lord and we're hoping this trip gives him the GRAND opportunity for Kingdom connections - the crowd he'll be hanging out in will be mostly young kids, desperately seeking trouble at all costs.

Bboy - Jonny

Here is a link to our performance dudes mucking around. Jonny features with Renz at 2:38

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Jonny (standing), Lorenzy y Aben - Nicaraguans LOVE to pose, hate to smile...

POST by RAF: Number 1 Tricker

Rafael Tricking

One day I was practicing my back hand sprang then when I was tired I went to do math. When my mom saw me doing math she ask me are you doing your math unit and I said yes and go to tricking class.

I am the second best trickier out of my family. Aben is the leader of tricking in he´s family and he shows Sezni tricking that’s why Sezni is in first place in tricking.

Then my teacher asked me do you want to be the best trickier in your family. I answered sure so he said do a round off then you will be the best trickier. Then I telled him help me he said ok. So I did my back hand sprang with a round off and better I did it by myself.

Rafael Tricking on the Trampoline

Politics: Opposition Candidate Murdered

Ferrey says Matus had been campaigning openly in the streets for weeks without problem, but allegedly started to receive threats of an undetermined nature over the past few days.

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Politics: Could Nicaragua’s president survive a Chavez loss in Venezuela?

Six years on, the inner workings of ALBA in Nicaragua remain a mystery to all but a select coterie. That’s because Ortega’s inner circle of family members and confidants has privatized Venezuelan aid through a web of businesses linked to a main holding company called “ALBANISA,” short for ALBA of Nicaragua, S.A.

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Politics: Nicaraguan President Warns of Heathen 'puppets' on eve of Venezuelan Elections

Of course wealth is good, but the wealth of the few, at the cost of the immense majority of people on this planet who live in extreme poverty, who are living in hunger, who are dying due to lack of medicine, who can’t go to school, that is bad wealth.

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Human Rights: Taxi Protest Leads to Mass Imprisonments

Ivania de Socorro Roque told The Nicaragua Dispatch that her husband, Alexis Selva, 39, was beaten viciously by 10 cops in the back of a police truck. She had to speak on his behalf because her husband is in a hospital bed with his jaw wired shut. Roque says Selva’s jaw and teeth were broken with the butt of a rifle. “Alexis is the only one in our family who has a job,” Roque said between tearful sniffles. “If he doesn’t work, our three children don’t eat.”

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POST by RENZ: Fiesty Fiesta Fighting

Lorenzy-Ella at a Party in Nicaragua

Here in Nicaragua parties are different from the States or Australia. I don’t know what makes it different but it just is, maybe because of all the Nicaraguan dancing and the things that they do. At pretty much every birthday party, they have music and dancing, even if it is a baby or toddler that is having a birthday - they just really treat it like a dancing party. They do not have themes for parties, the only theme that they have is dancing and they like it like that, and sometimes I do too. 

On Saturday, in the evening, we were invited to a birthday party. It started at six o’clock but first we went to church so we got there at like eight thirty or nine.  It was a friend of mines´ brother and he had turned 16 or 17.  Dad and all of the little boys stayed at home.

The place where the party was at, was just a concrete building but it was open and it was only one room. At the party people were dancing and just having fun. Somebody that I had met at other parties before asked me to dance so I danced with him.

Then we changed partners and I danced with another dude, Pio. He is 12 years old, the same age as me, but he’s REALLY short. We were having fun and my sister and mum were dancing too. We had brought Yordy with us as well but he just stayed outside. I was having so much fun that I did not see my mum and sister leave the building until Pio asked me were they were. I said that I did not know so we went to look for them.

We went outside and found them sitting with Yordy on a log. I asked them why they were sitting down outside and they said it was because they felt sick because of what they ate, the very food I’d cooked. I went back inside and started dancing again. A friend of mine named Adriana was dancing with another friend of mine called Elvis. The four of us kept on changing partners and then we got into a big line and started dancing. We were having so much fun when all of a sudden everyone left the building.

We went outside to see what was happening and of course it was a fight. Two guys were on the floor wrestling. I asked somebody what they were fighting about and they said it was something about a girl that they were fighting about.

I found my mum and she said that they were drunk even though the party had not given out any alcohol. We were just standing there watching them fight and then my mum went up to them and said in Spanish “Hey guys! Stop fight-“, but was stopped midsentence by my friend’s mum, Maria. She grabbed Mum and was screaming “LIZ DON’T DO IT!!!” This interaction between my Mum and Maria was hilarious.

We tried to go home but every time we tried to leave to go home, the fight got in our way. Finally, when everyone was able to leave, we went running. One of the guys that was fighting was right next to us. They had gotten machetes and fought with them and gotten cut a lot. I heard the one next to us say that they would go to the Punta Plancha, where we live, and wait for the one he was fighting there.

Once we were inside some people that had gone with us asked Fran to cut his hair so we all went outside to see how she would do it and then we heard a gunshot right outside of our property. We all got freaked out and then one guy joked, “Liz! They’re robbing your house!” They all started laughing because she did not understand. What a night.

Crime: Nicaraguan rights groups call sexual abuse an ‘epidemic’

Last year, 3,660 allegations of sexual abuse were reported in Nicaragua. According to the National Police’s Statistics Commission for Women and Children, in the first six months of this year, 1,873 abuse allegations were filed, of which 1,050 involved children under the age of 14. Many others go unreported.

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Business: Nicaraguan Business Leaders to Meet with US Dept. of Commerce

Commerce between Nicaragua and the United States represents 35% of Nicaragua’s Gross Domestic Product. Last year, Nicaragua exported $648.7 million in goods to the United States, more than twice as much as Nicaragua exported to Venezuela, it’s second biggest market.

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Politics: OAS to Observe Nicaragua's Municipal Elections

Following last year’s presidential elections, the OAS raised concerns about various “anomalies” and “difficulties” encountered by the observation team on Election Day. OAS mission director Dante Caputo said Nicaragua’s entire electoral system has “structural failings” that “need to be revised urgently.”

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POST by FRAN: Family Fun in the Sun, whilst getting some serious Tricking Done

Competition time!!!!  Saturday morning was interesting; I woke up with a stuffy nose and a sore throat. All the tricker boys had gone home except for Yordy and Eliazer. I cooked some eggs and made myself some tea. The boys were sitting outside on the couches watching tricking videos of Michael Guthrie and Vellu Saraela, and their other tricking heroes.

I went out and sat opposite them and began to eat my scrambled eggs. Then I said “let’s go practice tricking after this.” They looked up at me and nodded their heads very slowly. “Well Mum said that we could do a little competition with the little kids,” I said. Then there was more excitement in their response “dale pues!!! (Ok then!!)”

All the little boys: Sezni, Rafael, Billy, Brian and Oliver were all playing Wii inside, on the volume-less and colourless television that some good friends of ours gave to us. I walked over to them and asked them, “Who wants to have a tricking competition?” Many voices came in both English and Spanish “Yo… Me… I…yo quiero! Me too!” “Well get something to eat and then we will start the competition!!!” “YEEEEAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!” and then running feet was what I heard, if the TV had volume I would probably have heard the cries from the ‘Super Smash Bros’ Wii game as well!

I have seen little boys eat fast and slow or not wanting to eat at all, but this was the time when I saw boys eat like lighting! They were in the kitchen and when I got to the kitchen they were all outside warming up for the competition.

They all had their serious faces on. I went inside “Mum, we are ready!!!”  Mum came out with a birthday bag that looked full. “I’m coming!” She said in a rush. It looked like she had brushed her hair with a pillow and threw on the first thing that she saw in her wardrobe!

The just-woken-up Mum went outside and said “OK! Who is ready for a competition?”  There was screaming and yelling and a lot of noise. “OK then… Round one… Sezni vs. Brian vs. Fran…” she said as she wrote it down in a note book. “Round two… Jed vs. Billy vs. Oliver… ” there was some giggles at that one and then “round three… Lorenzy vs. Rafael. And last but not least, round four, Yordy vs. Eliazer!”

We played some music and started round one on the saw dust, Sezni, Brian and I were all against each other. The battle began with self-centered Sezni. He did a few kicks and then he did a round-off and a back hand spring. Mum clapped and then Brian did his thing. He did some kart wheels and a back hand spring, but tricking style is mainly kicking.

Sez, Brian and Francesca in our backyard, Saturday morning, Tricking Competition

Then it was my turn. I did a few kicks and I tried to do this side flip that I was learning but I freaked out and fell down on my side. I then did a back hand spring but I didn’t land it properly. I told Sezni “go it’s your turn” so he did his thing while I was making a pile of saw dust so that I could fall in it. I went back over to the other side so that I could get a running start.

It was then Brian’s turn so I waited till he was finished and when he moved out of the way I ran and jumped and did a front flip and landed on my feet but I was really low to the ground and I fell back to sit on my bum. Mum started clapping and cheering “wow!”

After that I don’t remember what the little boys did but the music finished and we were lined up; me, then Sezni, then Brian. Everyone else were judges and on the count of three they would point to the winner… one, two, tree… Sezni!!! Sezni won the floor because of his kicking.

The Judgement: Sezni is CHAMPION in backyard Tricking!

Next was the round between Dad, Billy and Oliver. Dad stole the show of course but Oliver won because he did a kart wheel. Then it was Lorenzy and Rafael. Lorenzy can’t do anything except go up in a bridge and run around her body without moving her arms, but that is not tricking that is break dancing. On the other hand Rafi can do a back hand (head) spring and a front flip. So Rafi won that one.

Dad in Tricking Heaven, with our lab - "Chela"

Then the real battle came… Yordy vs. Eliazer. Eliazer just started practicing tricking but he isn’t afraid to do it, Yordy has been practicing for a year or so, so he is pretty good. They were both doing front flips and half-moons and other stuff but Yordy suddenly did a double front flip and landed it like I landed my front flip! Yordy hasn’t been trying really hard to practice the double front flip, but yet he still did it!

Yordy Tricking

Yordy won that round because he was better than Eliazer on the floor. Next we went to the trampoline. And it was all the little kids for the first round and the second round was Yordy and Eliazer. The first group did front flips and back flips and back hand springs… I did a back flip with a twist. Yordy and Eliazer picked the winners… Third place was Brian, second place was Sezni and first place went to me.

Francesca Flipping

Yordy and Eliazer were next. Eliazer did a lot better on the trampoline, Yordy didn’t do that much because Eliazer was the one doing all the flipping! When they finished it was our turn to judge, we all voted for Eliazer to win and he did win.

Yordy y Eliazer on the trampoline

Once we all got our prizes the little boys went back to playing ‘Super smash bros’ on the Wii and the “older” people sat outside on the couches. We were all exhausted but we had a really fun morning. Mum went to have a shower and Dad went back to bed.  Saturdays are really our only days of rest! And Tricking is really tiring.  

Francesca Winning the Tricking Competition

POST by SEZ: Going Loco in the Barrio

On Tuesday, my family and I were going to play pool. Pool is a game with sticks, tables, and balls and you push them in holes. The person who put´s the most balls in win.

We go every Tuesday.  We get money to buy coca cola for kids. We leave to play pool at seven then we come back every time at ten o clock. Nestor guards our house while we are gone.

The floor where we play pool is bumpy and they have jackpots and five pool tables. When were there I feel like a loser because I lose all the time.

They have a movie that is bad for people.

I play pool too. 

POST by JED: Planes, Trains & Automobiles - Part 7

We returned from Minnesota to Rochester toot-sweet. No time for dilly-dallying in Chicago. We put out our elbows and blended with the locals, knocking over small children, the handicapped, fragile vases purchased in "duty free," and the elderly - just so we'd make our connection.

To our surprise Lukey, Liz's most handsome brother, was waiting for us at the Greater Rochester International Airport. Luke, as I explained in an earlier post, is married to a New Yorker, Jaime, and together they have spawned a couple of beautiful little Angels, Tagdh &  Allegra.

Jed & Liz in the Greater Rochester International Airport on a famous Park Bench

We (Liz & Luke) ran around the terminal acting emphatically Eurovision, striking poses for photographs, which were momentarily discarded. Our foolish antics finally ended on some of Rochester's 100 gaudy park benches, the city's very own original artwork, replacing 100 kitschy galloping steeds. Who knows where the burst of energy came from - it was a fun, frivolous moment.

Luke & Lizzie in the Greater Rochester International Airport - looking Euphorically Eurovision

We had left our children, minus Fran who was still at Teen Ranch in Toronto, between the Will household, and Shane & Jen's abode. Shane and Jen are our oldest Rochester friends, in terms of the time we've known them (though it should also be known that they are older than us - MUCH older).

Shane is a tall and strikingly good looking, in that debonair, Clark Kent, nearly 40, almost as good-looking as me (just to give you a gauge), sort of way. Jen is understated, highly intelligent, naturally gorgeous, can finish your sentence, wise, hard working, much better looking than Shane (by comparison, with tongue against cheek) and a better friend you'll never find.

Shane, Jen, Liz & Jed - Believe it or not, we did not discuss our outfits. We're just THAT kindrid...

In previous times, when we've arrived on their doorstep, it's always felt like we've made a long, laborious journey home. We generally flop onto whatever takes our fancy (in our experience, and over the years, barely anything is recognisable - their furniture has always been upgraded - ever more suited to their growing family's needs and tantilisingly tasteful to-boot), whilst Jen makes up dinners, desserts and refreshing bevwas. 

Jen later joins us midway conversation, instantly knowing who and what we're talking about, and immediately correcting parts of our exhausted monologues, we thought she hadn't been privy to on account of her pot clanging during the post-feast cleaning frenzy which systematically entangles her. Now I know you're privately, pompously thinking - "first of all she cooks, then serves, eats and then cleans up?" Well yes, it is a matter of contention in our lives, but please let me explain...

For us this problematic issue goes back, waaaaaaaaay back, aaaaaaaaaaaall the way back to Brockport Crossings, a "housing estate" on the fringe of the university Liz and I attended, the State University of New York - Brockport campus. It's to die for!

We'd regularly hang-out with our best friends, our New Yorker soul mate couple, on the ground floor of their multi-story, minimum convenience, townhouse.

Lizzie and I would giggle with glee as we ran around their home, mucking things up. We'd turn the condiments around the wrong way, shuffle Shane's alphabetically ordered cds, push his two-finger-spaced closeted shirts to one side and rearrange lounge room ornaments. It drove him nuts, and it wasn't even really funny, but for some reason, in our juvenile days (cause we're so mature now), we found it to be hilarious.

Our favourite game was Risk. I believe it was ALWAYS on a Friday afternoon, we'd stroll over for dinner, witness a voilent neighbourHOOD beating, call 911 and await Police attendence - popcorn in hand and toddler faces pressed up against window pain. Shortly after we'd throw our kids into bed (where Fran would continue to rearrange things for Shane) and commence our all-night, all-out sessions of Risk, which Jen nearly always won anyway.

There would inevitably be intense moments, with World dominator style passion, to times of "who cares, it's only a game (when I was losing...)." Sometimes we'd laugh our heads off, other times we'd leave with just a "grunt" to say hooray. We were always friends and this showed in the way we were able to smile (though sometimes rather toothily) and carry-on in the same ol' fashion, the very next week.

One evening, we headed out at the end of the night (I think the sun was rising), with good cheer, only to remember that we had left Fran's dummie (pacifier) at their house.

Psht! Don't judge us!! Yes, we used dummies. You try travelling Canberra - Sydney - Bangkok - London as a man, solo - with a baby, toddler and small child.

Just whilst I'm completely side-tracked, I also wanted Liz to use drugs at the birth of our first - Franny, and worked myself into more of a state than Liz ever could. I reached boiling point when I worked out how patronised I was, after being escorted out of the delivery room by the midwife, arm being held and rubbed, and with a soft voice cooing "there, there Jed, you can get through this without drugs..."

Of all the HIDEOUS Tom-Foolery! I felt humiliated!! Vulnerable!!! Only half a man... How dare they stoop to that level! And so I did what any man would do. I marched straight back into that delivery room, stepped over Liz who was now in her medieval, fembot, newage, birthing position, perched myself atop the delivery bed, and started inhaling the sweet toxins of Nitrous Oxide. THAT, ladies, is how you give birth...

Anyway, I've completely digressed. After remembering about our forgotten "dummie" back in the Crossings, we headed back to Shane & Jen's. We didn't knock, because it was late, we simply poked our tired heads through the door.

We were going to say "hello", but only got as far as "hell", for what we saw befuddled us. There could be NO denying it, for standing in the entrance was Jen, cleaning products in rubber-hands, scrubbing any DNA traces of our existence, quite positively away.

And there was more! Shane was rewashing EVERY dish we'd "cleaned." Of all the insults, of all the audacity, of all the hilarity. Yes, Liz and I can be a little too easy going at times. 

Now as mature adults with way too many children/teenagers, on our North American Roadshow, we chitted and chatted the night away with Shane & Jen, eventually hitting the sack at around 3am.

Of course, whom should pop their head through the doorway at the break of dawn (midday) on the very next morning (well, you know, later that day)? Beth! "Good Morning", she half-whispered in a bright, brisk voice, coupled with an awkward smile. Her discomfort may have resulted from an attempt to poke her head past the door, which wasn't forgiving on account of her voluminous red hair and our floor-bound composting clothes heap.

Dear Beth had come to chauffeur us to our afternoon appointment. It was now afternoon. We ducked around, helter-skelter, simultaneously trying to prepare the sleeping ankle-biters and attempting to contact room service for breakfast.

But alas - Jen had moved on to lunch - something we were to become accustomed to, Jen moving on to the next meal with the rest of civilization. We made ourselves bagels, a treat we NEVER get in Nicaragua. Thank God for Jen's open-fridge-door policy... 

We headed to the shores of one of the Finger Lakes (the name alludes me) and met with Geneseo Assembly of God. This visit was similarly bitter-sweet to our visit with Mountain Lakes Assembly of God.

As with ML-AG, this congregation was also aging, yet they still had an older pastor, who was only months away from retirement. They were wonderful to us, welcoming with open arms, but this specific sight, an aged Church, was to become all too familiar and weighed heavily on my heart.

I could see that Pastor Paul was completely in love with Jesus and his people, but for whatever reason was unable to bridge the generation gap. I want anyone reading this to understand that I am not casting any kind of judgment here, because aging congregations can be the result  of any number of factors.

However, it had seemed that the Church was given a real chance of reinvigoration through a merge with a locally based non-denominational Church. After our "presentation", we were granted the opportunity of speaking with the pastor who'd previously led the non-denom. He seemed to be a gracious chap, somewhere around the BIG 4-oh mark. It was a great chat.

He explained that his Church had been vibrant and growing however, he'd felt that he should be utilising a Church building, sowing money back into the ministries of fellow Christians.

The non-denom approached Geneseo AG and formed an agreement with them to use their building of a Sunday evening. As time passed, it became clear that the AG Church had a morning and evening service, with not many people distinguishing between the two "bodies" of people.

And so the Churches merged. Pastor Paul, became the lead pastor, and the younger fella, became 2ic. Yet it was too good to last. Before too long the 2ic was forced to step aside from his Churching commitments, for family reasons, and started attending a home Church.

I believe this dealt a massive blow to Geneseo AG, as sadly, quite often Church attendance is primarily correlated to the person of pastor. It's just a guess, but I'm thinking the absence of the non-denom pastor's youthfulness, energy, creativity and originality was sorely missed.

He went on to explain some of the problems he sees with the denomination and I'll paraphrase here:

"In this day and age, there are profound issues confronting our youth. We believe that our teens must attend the very best universities to grant them the optimal start in life.

However, the very best universities can be rather pricey. Mega, well-to-do-Churches can afford offering a significant starting salary to recent graduates, which they need in order to cover their significant educational debts.

Smaller Churches in rural communities, start-ups, inner city Churches, etc., generally are unable to afford the cost of highly educated, professional pastors. The number of young graduates seeking a career in ministry seems to be dwindling."

Hence, all too often, reduced congregational numbers are not necessarily the fault of the aging pastor. In this scenario it seemed to me that the poor bloke just wasn't offered a fair-go. You could see that he'd extended himself beyond belief, working with the sick, the poor, the disabled, the elderly, other Churches, etc.

He had taken in dozens of orphans as foster children, working tirelessly for the cause of his community. At the end of the day his legacy will be that he loved the Lord, pastored his Church and blessed random, wacky missionaries like me.

There are faults with the system - it's manmade. And although I don't have all the answers,

I do think the best way forward for many Christians in the American AG Church would be to compromise and follow the lead of many successful pastors from years gone by, and adopt an apprenticeship of sorts.

I grew up under Gothard's "Advanced Training Institute of America," and although I admit he made many mistakes, I think his approach to training is appropriate in this circumstance. In smaller congregations, perhaps we should be training up leaders who attend university part-time or via correspondence, reducing or negating the cost of training, and giving the battlers a shot at it.

I believe, it all goes back to discipleship. Walking alongside people, through life, and being there for them, without exception. It begins with, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." (John 14:6) But where to from there?

Shouldn't we be helping our youth capture a vision for God and their lives? That doesn't happen for all instantaneously, right before they need to make a decision at university. No, the seed needs to be planted much earlier and that is part of parental responsibility.

Honestly,  I was shocked when teaching at a Christian school, that most of the kids had not even contemplated what their lives would look like in future years. Yes, kids change their minds, I get that. But, training for some professions must begin in the earliest of years.

I had one little girl say "oh,  I want to be a gymnast and go to the Olympics." I turned to her and said, "you're probably too late, you're 10 now. Most of the girls at the Olympics start training when they are 2 or 3 years old."

This will horrify most of my readers, but it's the truth. I met so many people at university in America who still had NO IDEA what they were wanting to study. That's not possible in most other countries of the World - you enroll in your profession from day dot, and cannot change without jumping through hoops. Generally university, whether free or not, is difficult to get into and a privilege to attend.

If you disagree with what I'm saying, watch the first few weeks of any "American Idol" season, and you will witness the dropping of many parental balls. (stay with me please) Children are CONTINUOUSLY told that they can be whatever they dream. It's not true. There are factors involved, which are out of their control.

Firstly, we are given a set of God given talents. We don't decide those, and a good parent helps their child decipher between what God has given others and the talents he's given them. Secondly, we are born into a specific environment. We have to be realistic and have to teach our kids to be realistic, in terms of God-given dreams that are attainable. Thirdly, there are circumstances out-of-our control. Other people end up being the coaches, employers, trainers, mothers-in-law, etc.

We as parents mustn't put too much faith in a system that primarily stacks the cards in others' favour. We have to prepare our children for the hard knocks life will inevitably bring. It's a time of intense training, and boundaries are crucially important. Try following one of Liz's famous quotes with teens, it'll get results:  "why don't you just compromise for once and do what I say!"

Train up your children, I beg you, TRAIN THEM TO THINK! Don't just plop them into society's systems, as many do, virtually forgetting them for the next 17 years. Help them to hear the voice of God, find themselves in Him, realise their God given interests and talents, and start steering, for goodness' sake, grab the flippin' the wheel! (PS.. AND with whatever they do, MAKE THEM PRACTISE!)

POST by RAF: FLIPPIN TRICKIN!

Rafael & Jonny

One day I was practicing my back Hand sprang the my mom called me to do math. 

Then the next day I was busy doing my math then I went to play Wii Supper Smash Bros Bawl and I Just noticed that almost everyone in Super Smash Bros Brawl can do flips so  I practice outside.

Then when I had to go to tricking class my teacher tell me do your back hand sprang so I did my back hand sprang then he asked me do you want do double back hand sprang I said ok and he said I'm going to help you.

So the first time I did it was fast. The second one it was the same as the first one. The third one was slow. The last one was perfect.

That day was the coolest day in my life.