Visit with the Albararez Family

The other day Liz got to talking with some of our neighbours. They're incredibly adorable people, who attend everything we put on at the Community Centre. Mum, Maria, is just 33 years old and has 4 kids. Her mother and brother live with her also. They sleep together in a one room shack that has several partitions. The grandmother sleeps with her son, Maria sleeps with her 5 year old boy, her daughters (15 and 13) sleep together and Nelson, eleven years old, sleeps in an infant's cot.

They are unemployed and have little money. They get sick from time-to-time. It is now the wet season and they face daily flooding and a leaky roof. Their house smells. They do not have adequate facilities to maintain their household. Their country has been beaten and abused and they scramble to make their lives work. Only Jesus can save their souls, but what was his instruction to us. He told us to give to the poor...

Please consider helping us to help Maria today. We want to build her a new home (just one room, but with a cement floor, drainage and a proper roof). Please, consider how much you've been blessed and be a blessing to somebody who needs it. You didn't choose to be born into your wealth and Maria didn't choose to be born into her poverty. She is not lazy, she is not a thief, she's a young Mum with the burden of the World upon her shoulders, and she needs your help.

Please contact us: CapitalontheEdge@gmail.com

Then the King will say to those on His right hand, 'Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.' Matthew 25:34-36

To support Capital on the Edge in their Nicaraguan mission, please do one of the following:

1. E-mail us: CapitalontheEdge@gmail.com

2. Visit our Webpage and make a contribution (we will contact you via e-mail):

http://capital-on-the-edge.blogspot.com/p/so-you-want-to-support-us-aye.html

3: Contact our Church to arrange a payment plan (tax deductable): CapitalEdge.org.au

4. Send us a message via Facebook: Capital on the Edge

Who are we? We are Capital on the Edge... We were sent out in 2008 by our home Church, Capital Edge Community Church in Canberra, Australia (CapitalEdge.org.au), to be missionaries in Latin America.

We are now based in Nicaragua, Central America, the poorest Spanish Speaking Country in the World. We are currently serving a community full-time near Cedro Galan (just outside of Managua). We currently run a school, foster home and community centre, as well as teach in local schools, pray in the children´s hospital and visit Tipitapa Prison.

Many thanks for the time you have taken to watch our video...

Capital on the Edge xoxoxoxoxo

Random Moments 2

This video features random moments of Capital on the Edge folk amongst the people in our barrio. (people from in and around Cedro Galan in Nicaragua, Central America)

Random Moments 2: Our new gymnast (Aben), music from the Jovenes night (with a power outage), Oli and his pet bird, and the clean-up after the Jovenes group...

Then the King will say to those on His right hand, 'Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.' Matthew 25:34-36

To support Capital on the Edge in their Nicaraguan mission, please do one of the following:

1. E-mail us: CapitalontheEdge@gmail.com

2. Visit our Webpage and make a contribution (we will contact you via e-mail):

http://capital-on-the-edge.blogspot.com/p/so-you-want-to-support-us-aye.html

3: Contact our Church to arrange a payment plan (tax deductable): CapitalEdge.org.au

4. Send us a message via Facebook: Capital on the Edge

Who are we? We are Capital on the Edge... We were sent out in 2008 by our home Church, Capital Edge Community Church in Canberra, Australia (CapitalEdge.org.au), to be missionaries in Latin America.

We are now based in Nicaragua, Central America, the poorest Spanish Speaking Country in the World. We are currently serving a community full-time near Cedro Galan (just outside of Managua). We currently run a school, foster home and community centre, as well as teach in local schools, pray in the children´s hospital and visit Tipitapa Prison.

Many thanks for the time you have taken to watch our video...

Capital on the Edge xoxoxoxoxo

Support a Worker (Aben)

Today we are asking you to consider supporting (sponsoring) Aben, a chap who comes from the streets of Managua, who is a gifted gymnast and who has his whole entire life in front of him.

Aben is a young man of just 18 years, unemployed and in his second last year of high school. Aben will now live with the Brien family, helping to train young students in gymnastics whilst also being discipled.

Nicaragua is a country that lacks male Christian leadership and is currently on a course set for destruction. We need to physically support the young Christian men who are already serving the Lord, and help them to achieve positions of influence in their communities, whereby they can make a difference. Are you prepared to support Aben for just $100 per month?

Then the King will say to those on His right hand, 'Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.' Matthew 25:34-36

We need your help. Aben is a young man with great potential. He is not currently a Christian, but we believe he will respond to the Gospel message. He has the ability to affect change on those within his sphere of influence. He already has a following of 6 students, from his poor barrio in Managua. Please consider your role in the life of Aben.

To support Yader please do one of the following:

1. E-mail us: CapitalontheEdge@gmail.com

2. Visit our Webpage and make a contribution (we will contact you via e-mail): CLICK here to donate

3: Contact our Church to arrange a payment plan

4. Send us a message via Facebook: Capital on the Edge

Who are we? We are Capital on the Edge... We were sent out in 2008 by our home Church, Capital Edge Community Church in Canberra, Australia (CapitalEdge.org.au), to be missionaries in Latin America.

We are now based in Nicaragua, Central America, the poorest Spanish Speaking Country in the World. We are currently serving a community full-time near Cedro Galan (just outside of Managua). We currently run a school, foster home and community centre, as well as teach in local schools, pray in the children´s hospital and visit Tipitapa Prison.

Many thanks for the time you have taken to watch our video...

Capital on the Edge xoxoxoxoxo

POST by JED: For the Love of God!

On my DTS (Discipleship Training School) with Youth With a Mission in Sydney, Australia, there were stax of people from all over the World. 


Half of the team was from South Korea, a bunch of people incredibly well dressed, passionate about Church, disciplined like an army, and pray-ers like you've never seen. They would THROW themselves at the thrown of God! 

In the morning we'd finish up a bit of praise and worship and then the prayers would start. Prayer time kind of felt like a herd of elephants stampeding through the camp. I'd try to send up my own mighty prayers, but was always beaten back by the volume and intensity of my fellow disciples. I'd usually end up thanking the Lord for the two bits of dried toast I'd eaten for breakfast and then hold on to the chair in front, so as to not look like I was exaggerating the effects of this Spiritual Earthquake.

There were also a few Aussies on my DTS. Thank GOD for Aussies, I say... Good fun, laid back, great senses of humour, I was totally at home with them - except for the Queenslander... What is it with Queenslanders?

No DTS is complete without a contingency of Americans. We were blessed with two, a debonair chap and a genuine lass, who were classically Christian America. She watched what she said, did as she was told and was perpetually positive. Enough to make you sick! I found a real friend in her, someone to look up to and be guided by. The  fellow was a great example, took himself too seriously, dressed in polo's and khakis (the American male's casual-wear uniform), read his Bible heaps and liked to listen, rather than speak.

Timothy and Esther were Korean and Malaysian (in that order). Timothy grew up in a deaf orphanage, though had been wrongly diagnosed as a toddler. He was none-the-wiser, using sign language to communicate with his peers, carers and teachers, and attending lip reading classes.

The orphanage staff realised he wasn't deaf when they were gossiping about him in the next room and he came in to set them straight. The orphanage apologised and sent him on his way.

Esther, our resident Malaysian (so studious), was a very wise woman. Timothy and Esther now serve the Lord amongst Muslims in Asia.

Timothy had the most amazing stories regarding faith. One time the couple went into a bank as they needed to withdraw money. They were in desperate need. Whilst they were waiting in the queue Timothy noticed a table with money on it. The guard didn't seem to be aware of the money.

Timothy consequently walked over to the table and put the money into his bag. Esther called out to Timothy in Korean, "Timothy, I don't think you should be taking that money!" He said, "It's okay, my father sent it to me." Once Timothy had popped the money into his bag, they exited the building. Nobody said anything, nobody stopped them. Many bizarre things just like that happened to Timothy and Esther ALL the time.

I can share a snippet of a story relating to us. Whilst not quite as exciting as the bank episode, it was an event involving a great level of faith on the part of Timothy. When things got incredibly tough for Liz and I (there have been many times, but just imagine back to when we eloped) during our brief courtship (we were married within 5 months of knowing each other), he gave his wedding ring to me and told me to melt it down, sell the gold, and use the money to pay our debts. I told him I couldn't take the ring from him, but he'd have it no other way. He couldn't even look me in the eye! He just held out the ring and kept saying "please." I still have the ring to this day.

Back to my DTS... Of course there was Liz the Brit girl, whom I married... Gorgeous, fun, committed to the cause and delightfully quick witted. I now know the significance of the ring, cause I got gold I tell you, GOLD!

And then there were my fabulous friends from the Faroe Islands (Scandinavia - the Faroes are located to the northwest of Scotland, halfway between Norway and Iceland). I loved them the most (ummm... Besides Lizzie of course).

Jonhard, Eydna, Bogi, Lizzie and I terrorized New South Wales nonstop for 3 months. One day we'd be at Bondi, a suburban beach in Sydney, the next day we'd be swimming in a rocky waterfall-fed-lagoon, in the Blue Mountains.

I found the Faroese (under Danish rule at the time) to be overly direct and honest (and you think I speak my mind!), relaxed, passionate about Jesus, a pleasure to hang with, artistic, tranquil, understated and socialistic.

I'd had my first run-in with socialism at college, where I completed my higher school certificate, near the "Hills" district in Sydney's northwest (SILENCE! - To all of you who know the exact whereabouts!!!).

An American teacher adjudicated my class entitled "General Studies". This class, I believe, loosely covered topics pertaining to politics, sociology, and psychology. I don't really remember the specifics, but had a terrific time because of the insightful views of my adorable American teacher.

Now I had been trained by ATIA (the Advanced Training Institute of America, with Bill Gothard) and could not have been more right wing. During a training stint in Indianapolis, I had memorised Bible scriptures from the King James, sung hundreds of hymns, been awoken at 5am to participate in Bible studies, played volleyball in shirt and tie, watched choirs, violinists, bell ringers, and the works. I was practically at a Mormon training camp! I was as right-wing as President George Bush Senor, himself (he was President at the time).

However, during college I bent away from the right-wing camp I had grown up in and leaned over to take a closer look at what was going on with the leftists (I'm sure I thought they were all tree-hugging, tie-dye-wearing, macrobiotic-food-eating, Buddhists). They're not, however I have noticed that there tends to be less Christianity in the camp complimented with a greater level of humanism (which makes sense).  Though I do believe this phenomenon relates more to who constitutes the groups and how the groups were formed, rather than current issues floating about in the media and how we're going to save ourselves from global bankruptcy.

In some cultures, socialism is a bad word, akin to communism (which is, in my opinion, very, VERY bad). However, as I learnt, one of the major focuses, in relation to our political models, is the distribution of wealth. 


Under socialism, I was taught, generally health and education are universally accessible, which opens up the playing field to more participants within society (the most talented students across a nation get the best positions at university, which flows on to industry when both the private and public sectors are offered gifted and capable workers, rather than those who could afford outrageous fees in well-to-do universities, for example...).

I really appreciated my teacher's thoughtful responses to a lot of my hard-line, right wing questions. My American Maestra seemed to be very Christian and I imagined that Jesus would have wanted the same as that which she talked about - the rich giving to the poor, the able helping the disabled, the loved loving the unlovely. 

And so it was, back to DTS, I was sitting with my Faroese friend... She was excited as a letter (remember those days?) had arrived with word that her next move would be to Copenhagen for university. "What are you going to study?" I asked. "Medicine!" was her overly excited response. "Medicine?"

I was shocked. I didn't know anyone who had studied, or was studying medicine. In New South Wales, in the year 1995, the tertiary entrance rank for medicine was 99.5. This number meant that only the TOP half of the TOP percent of school leavers in the state would be eligible to study medicine.

"Wow", I said. "You're going to be rich!" Now the Faroese are typically Scandinavian. Their facial expressions mirror their emotions. They never, EVER brave a smile. "I'm not going to be rich!" she said a tad bit self-righteously (if you ask me). "I'm not studying medicine to make money, I'm studying medicine because I want to help people."

We sat there in momentary disbelief. She, shocked by my inappropriate response to her excitement, and me by her lack of won-the-lotto-glee! I learnt a lesson that day - we should be directed along our path by what God wants for us, financial reward shouldn't be the driver of our decision making. It's not about doing what makes us happy, but rather what pleases the Lord.

Today? Well, I don't know why we're surprised... The World is in a terrible place and we continue to look at our political structures as a source of solution to our human problems. Some idolise government structures and our principled past. They're flawed...

Europe is in a mess. Everything in the ENTIRE World apparently hinges on whether or not Greece leaves the European Union.

I check the Aussie dollar on a daily basis and the news alerts currently feature Greece. Australia makes HEAPS of money through raw materials , such as iron ore (the World's richest woman is Australian mining magnet, Gina Rinehart. Boring tidbit of info for you! But not a boring woman, faaar from it - she's thoroughly fascinating... Scandals, family drama, the journos down-under are having a field day...). China buys these products and exports them to Europe and America in the form of finished products.

If there is a slow-down in the US or Europe (If Greece exits the European Union, their demand for imports will most likely drop), then there is a slow-down in the Chinese manufacturing market, which means there is a lesser demand for Australian products. And so, when Greece is smiling and being cooperative, so is the Aussie dollar.

However, the problem is that Greece, and most countries within the EU, are losing their national sovereignty as the EU demands more political and fiscal control over national institutions. Germany and France, for the most part, are re-inventing history using economics as their firepower.

These two countries strongly believe in the benefits of free trade (who doesn't... in theory), however they also believe in a more centralised base of power. It's kind of like the position the US was in before the individual States surrendered their powers to the Federal Government. However, with regards to modern Europe, these countries have been around for thousands of years, and cultures are simultaneously being eroded away, and all for the love of money.

The US operates via a "free economic market" model, and have historically placed supreme importance on "letting the market decide." However, the market does not always know best and most certainly does not consider the needs of the poor and otherwise disadvantaged. The market is selfish, uncaring and unkind. This has been evidenced through stock crashes, the recent sub-prime mortgage crisis, unfair trade, rising unemployment, etc.

Economics is hard work. There has to be some level of government intervention. Laws are necessary to regulate markets and hold individuals accountable for their corporate actions. Yet some countries have too many laws. Lots of laws results in mountainous masses of corruption. An area of the World famous for corruption is Latin America.

Nicaragua is a country with a turbulent past. They have been abused by other countries. The USA, the former Soviet Union and now Russia, Venezuela, Cuba, Iran are all countries that use, or have used Nicaragua as a pawn for their own political gain. Imagine this, an American even invaded Nicaragua and pronounced himself President!

It's no wonder Nicaragua is left dazed and a little confused. It's no surprise that they have a bazillion laws (that coincidently nobody respects?). Nicaragua has been jostled about, had provisions imposed upon them and they've been left, after several natural disasters and years of civil war (and they say during the cold war that not a bullet was shot - tell that to a Nicaraguan - contra or Sandanista), scrambling to find/create a model of government, suitable to the West, East, North and South - but whilst still maintaining relevancy to their needs, with the right and the left never meeting in the middle. Conundrum? You have no idea...   

Nicaragua is in a mess. Nicaragua is currently a member of ALBA (Alianza Bolivariana para los Pueblos de Nuestra América). The idea behind ALBA is to move away from the US Dollar as the main unit of trade, and to focus efforts upon cooperation and bartering products and services between member states. Good idea?

At the moment the main players in ALBA are Venezuela, Nicaragua, Cuba, Ecuador, Bolivia and watch out, Iran has a special relationship with ALBA. For Nicaragua, the economic community has provided many benefits for the poorer class, such as cheaper petrol, access to bank loans, lower food prices, etc. At the moment, at the grass roots level, the current president's social agenda has resulted in positive change for many of Nicaragua's most needy citizens - even though the President himself hovers under a cloud of corruption.

And so - who will help the people of Nicaragua? I had been chatting with students from Dordt College, in Iowa - USA, who were very impressed with what they saw at the Dutch Embassy. They expressed that the Dutch seemed like they genuinely wanted to help - no strings attached, no tied agreements.

I too was impressed by their story and could relate. At my last school there had been a Dutch student in my grade, and I had frequently chatted with his mother. I could feel the compassion oozing out of her, a couple of times her words caused a lump to form in my throat. Such love and respect for these people we've come to serve. The last time we spoke I felt compelled to take action - "I want to help!" And here we are...

The other day Liz got to talking with some of our neighbours. They're incredibly adorable people, who attend everything we put on at the Community Centre. Mum, Maria, is just 33 years old and has 4 kids. Her mother and brother live with her also. They sleep together in a one room shack that has several partitions. The grandmother sleeps with her son, Maria sleeps with her 5 year old boy, her daughters (15 and 13) sleep together and Nelson, eleven years old, sleeps in an infant's cot.

They are unemployed and have little money. They get sick from time-to-time. It is now the wet season and they face daily flooding and a leaky roof. Their house smells. They do not have adequate facilities to maintain their household. Their country has been beaten and abused and they scramble to make their lives work. Only Jesus can save their souls, but what was his instruction to us. He told us to give to the poor...

Please consider helping us to help Maria today. We want to build her a new home (just one room, but with a cement floor, drainage and a proper roof). Please, consider how much you've been blessed and be a blessing to somebody who needs it. You didn't choose to be born into your wealth (and you are relatively rich...) and Maria didn't choose to be born into her poverty. She is not lazy, she is not a thief, she's a young Mum with the burden of the World upon her shoulders, and she needs your help.

Please contact us: CapitalontheEdge@gmail.com

POST by SEZ: Mexico & the Great Fight

On Thursday Mexico, Cadburys, Midnight, and Oreo,  our horses were eating at a filled. Lorenzy, Fran, Jamil, and I were watching the horses because we didn’t want them fighting other horses .

Fran, and Renz are my Sisters and I  just sat because we were tired.

Then we saw a white horse came down to kick Mexico´s   bottom.  Mexico banged the White horse on the neck with his shoe.   Then Mexico broke his knee. It got broken by the White horse, we got Mexico a wrapper that’s called a bandage.

Then the White horse crawled on Midnight because he likes her.  Mexico has a White mark on the nose, and he has gray hair. He has three brown socks, and one white sock. He jumps super high with his feet.                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

                                                      

I love horse fights because there so brave.

POST by RENZ: Weathering Nicaraguan Weather

My family loves going to the beach. We usually go to the beach during vacations. We have been to three different beaches in Nicaragua. Those three are la Playa Hermosa, la boquita, and another one that I don’t know how to spell. I like each one but my absolute favorite one is la Playa Hermosa. I like la Playa Hermosa the best because at that beach I have a lot of friends that own beach houses.

One of my ex-classmates’  mum lets us stay at her beach house and it is really fun. We make bonfires and go out running late at night or really early in the morning. One day when we were at la play Hermosa we were talking with some of my friends from school who also have a beach house. The house that belongs to my classmate is right in front of the water but my friend’s house was further back. She invited us to her beach house to do random things.

That night we walked to her house. It was quite creepy because it was dark and we had to cross a bridge and underneath it was a dark lake type thing and there was a log that looked like a crocodile. The bridge was like the bridge in the movie Shrek, when Shrek and Donkey were going to get the princess, but had to cross the really old bridge. That was like the bridge that my whole family had to cross. A few planks were missing and it was hard to see so we had to go slowly.

Then we had to go up a steep hill but that wasn’t so bad. It looked like it was going to rain but we weren’t going to take so long so we were alright. Once we got there we started talking and playing. They have a ping pong table so we played ping pong. It started to rain. Then the rain got really hard and so we went inside.

It started to thunder and then there was lightning with really hard rain. We had left Hector and Nicole the house owners’ children (also mine and my sisters friends of the house) at the house. Hector is 12 and Nicole is in tenth grade. We heard thunder which was REALLY, REALLY, REALLY loud and my dad screamed. If you didn’t already know, my dad freaks out when he hears thunder and lightning.

We waited a while with the intention of waiting until the weather got calmer but it didn’t really get any calmer so we decided to leave because otherwise we would be there all night. We started going and it stopped raining but there was still thunder and lightning and it was really close. It was even harder to go across the bridge because it was slippery and it was harder to see where there was missing planks because it was now night time.

  

Once we were almost home (we just had to walk across the beach to get to the house) we came to a place where a river had formed and it had overflowed and was blocking our path. The current was too strong to go across and my dad was able to get across but we couldn’t. Some people saw us and helped us get across. The rest of the way we ran, except for my parents and Billy, my foster brother. When we got home Hector said to us that when he heard the big crack of thunder he told his sister “Yep Mr.B is dead!” 

Economics: Nicaraguans receive rent-to-own program

The housing sector in Nicaragua, as well as in the rest of Latin America and the Caribbean, is dominated by informality. Informal housing units are self-constructed and progressively built, most without proper land titles or access to public utilities. It is estimated that 20,000 homes are built annually in Nicaragua, with only 3,000 produced and financed through the formal market.


CLICK here to read article

Politics: Borge dead and Daniel?

Borge, the last living founder of the Sandinista National Liberation Front that toppled Nicaragua's U.S.-backed dictatorship in 1979, died on April 30 at age 81 after being hospitalized for pneumonia and other ailments. He was buried in early May. He was the country's powerful interior minister from 1979 to 1990 and was considered a hard-liner who admired North Korea's and Cuba's communist governments.

CLICK here to read article

Education Progresses in Nicaragua with Cuban Support

Over 94,000 Nicaraguans that learned to read an write through government educational programs will end the sixth grade in December through the donation of 150,000 literacy campaign books by Cuba, said the Deputy Minister of Education, Jose Treminio, today.


CLICK here to read article

POST by FRAN: My 2 cents worth

The other day I received a text message from a friend of mine, it said:

I cry for not having the brand of shoes that I want, but I saw a man giving thanks to God for having feet. I ask God 'why didn't you give me blue eyes?' but I saw a blind man say 'THANK-YOU FOR A BEAUTRIFUL NEW DAY!' I get mad when I have to walk because I get tired, meanwhile a boy makes his pace happier in his wheel chair. I get lazy when I have to get out of bed, meanwhile others are fighting in a hospital bed attached to a machine, the ones that your life depends on. Always give thanks to God for what we have, it's not a  burden, it isn't hard to say 'thank-you'!

I really thought about this, and it came to me; the poor don't really have much but each other, and the rich have more than just each other and they sometimes take their richness for granted.

I've seen that richer families usually fight and want more and more, and poorer families love and care for each other. Here in Nicaragua I've seen that the father often has a drinking problem, but the rest of the family stays together.

 

I go to a poorer area in Nicaragua on Saturday mornings to pray for the families that live in little houses that the government built.

On one occasion a team of 78 "gringos" (as the Nica people call white people here) from the US came to our little Saturday morning activity. They ALL had the newest pair of shoes and the best phones and cameras and the best clothing brands and hair accessories. They were really nice people but they all had the BEST everything!

The place we went to was smelly and unpleasant, more than what they were expecting: cooking outside over a fire with a wooden homemade spoon, starving skinny dogs sniffing all over the place, washing clothes outside by hand and cleaning the dishes in the same water. It was very different to what they knew and to what they thought they were coming to.

I was placed as a translator for one group of about 10 people, they were young and excited, but all of them looked fresa (posh).

The first house that we went to one of the visiting girls started to cry. At the second house another of the visiting girls started to cry. By the sixth house 5 of the girls were in tears. I was surprised at this because I've been seeing people in extreme poverty for about 4 years, whereas they have only been here in Nicaragua for a week or so. Some of them have been on a few missions trips, but other than that this really was an impact on most of them.

I got a huge shock when I walked into one house and saw a pretty woman on a little old laptop. That just showed me that the family would try so hard to help out with their daughters' studies and as a family there CAN be change, BIG CHANGES, but it takes work. That day I felt proud, not for myself but for the family helping their young daughter. When I asked to pray for them the mother said "actually I would like to pray for YOU."

POST by JED: Good Heavens, Hot as Hell

Uno, dos, TREEEEEEEES! I jerked Jeddah's arm, hoping he'd tumble in with me. Moments before I'd led him to Jesus and then joked that he needed to be baptized, but alas the joke had been on me. Our heads came together with a smack and I instantly knew he'd be aching. I continued to fall. CRACK! My back connected with the edge of the pool and searing pain ripped through my entire torso.

I landed in the water and my first thought was "it's not cold?" My second thought was "I want to die!" My third thought? "I can make it out if I keep my head above water. If I don't, because I'm a kidder, they'll think I'm joking and the more I struggle, the more they'll laugh. I cannot die with people who love me laughing their heads off and pointing at me." I know this pattern of thoughts was random, but they are what they are. The pain was unbearable. I wanted to cry...

Liz had invited a home schooling group over for the afternoon. Now whilst this fusion of white, home school, missionary types and our youth, the future of our neighbourhood, the young and the restless, might have been a great idea - the idea might have needed a tad more tweaking.

The ladies chatted on the verandah, as the kids swam in the pool. The dogs did their best to attract as many flies and bugs as possible The salsa and corn chips made their debut. The children of our barrio continued to drift on in and before too long the home schoolers bid their farewell, and headed back to their gated communities.

4pm approached and it was time for me to collect the band members from Barrio Loco, a neighbourhood not too far from ours. Barrio Loco is a dangerous place with youths hell-bent on stealing, raping and harming. At times we, the Brady Bunch (I'm sure they see us in this light - naive, "well-to-do", overly friendly...), have ridden through and witnessed with our own eyes gang activity, crime and physical punishment being dealt out. All the while we rise-to-the-trot and watch on as they watch on, mouths left gaping (from our mounts to their pouts).   

The band members assemble and begin to practice. They sound incredible. Darkness envelopes. Our house is a hive of activity. I zip to the shops and buy our staff enchiladas for dinner. I arrive home at 5 to 7 and the multitudes have already assembled. 

Tonight there is potential for trouble. We have started to receive an enormous amount of youths with "issues" (drugs, alcohol and weapons) from our 3 local barrios. Local community members, we have been told by our Church members, have advised that a petition is being passed around to close our Community Centre.

We have already been through the trials of rumours (child trafficking, drug trafficking, child pornography and prostitution). The current rumour is that we are using our Friday night "Grupo de Jovenes" (youth group) to either prostitute the youths or supply prostitutes to them. I'm not sure which and don't really care. Both scenarios are equally as horrid, ridiculous and untrue.

The crowd is rough and ready, but I see no new faces. The mass look excited at my arrival and are seemingly anticipating great things from tonight's fun activities. I rip through the crowd, my ears feeding on the squeals of laughter, drive through the gate and salute our armed guard, Nestor.

I summons the people standing by to help with dinner. They run to my aide and in seconds empty stomachs are being filled. I get on my army gear and walk to the gate.

My amigo Shamyr is with me. Shamyr is the bodybuilding champion of Nicaragua and my best friend. Shamyr has a gun holstered.

Ramses, our Tae Kwondo instructor, and director of Tae Kwondo at Nicaragua's Institute of Sport, has also arrived and is ready for action. He's a good Christian friend and probably the closest fit to a Nica-ministry partner.

Jamil, our dance teacher and gardener, who was also in the army, is excited. He almost wills them to make a bad move, so that he can tackle them to the ground and restrain until the police arrive.

Eduardo, our University Youth Pastor, who has been in prison for conspiracy to murder, is head of this operation and is not in the mood for any hanky panky.

We walk through the gate together, this unlikely crew of Christian men and the crowd steps back. I look closely and am surprised at what I see. Toddlers, children, teens, adults and even older people have come tonight. It seems that family members have also decided to attend tonight's meeting, but why?

Eduardo raises a stern voice to the awaiting ears. He explains that no drugs, alcohol or weapons will be allowed to enter the Community Centre, and that people who display signs of intoxication, use bad language, or act inappropriately will  not be tolerated and will be expelled from the grounds without investigation.

I take a moment to exemplify the fearless brute force we have at our disposal and throw a teen up against the wall, their huffing and puffing being heard by all onlookers. I frisk, I fuss, I make a hullabaloo. The crowd erupts in laughter, with lots of energetic chitter chatter circulating. They never know if I'm joking or not, and truth be told, often times I don't either.

The slow process of body and bag checks ensues, and the people file in one-by-one.

The youth get on with ping pong, basketball, soccer and swimming. Everyone is having a wonderful time. It's hard to believe that local gossipers would want to shut this operation down. It's even harder to imagine how the rudest stories could emanate out of this place, our very own version of Nica-DisneyWorld.

At 8pm we gather the folks. The band raises the roof with their Nica-praise and the spirit of the congregated group is in harmony with our heart for the local barrios. You can tell the attitudes are positive and upbeat.

Francesca performs a skit with Valeria, our children's pastor, and some of the youths. Francesca is the "prodigal daughter" in this Biblical stage show, which is incredibly relevant to the eyes that watch.

The skit ends and the mood is still encouraging. There have been NO dramas tonight, except for the one delivered with a Gospel Message.

I introduce Shamyr and the eyes widen. He talks about the importance of a healthy lifestyle for a healthy body, and a healthy relationship with God for a healthy spiritual life. The boys are dumbfounded when Shamyr shows his upper-body. (I think partly cause they can see his gun) His mountainous muscle mass adds credibility to the message he's just delivered. I look at the lads and can see contemplation. They're searching their souls, they're weighing the costs.

Liz and I then lead the people in a time of worship. Nearly every mouth is moving. The physical is leading way to the spiritual. "Jesus conquered the grave..." are the last words we sing. The lights come on, the projector goes off, there is hustle and bustle as the "service" is transitioned into a ping pong parlour once more.

I ignore the activity and search the seating for souls seeking more. I notice some pretty serious faces. The young fellas aren't moving. They're trapped inside their thoughts.

I race over and sit between some of the blokes. Unfortunately, due to my usually crazy antics, it breaks the mood and the jokes and laughter are with us once more. Sure, I want to be fun, but right now fun could deliver souls to hell for eternity. Nobody wants that.

I press through, "Tienes Jesus en tu corazon?" (Do you have Jesus in your heart?) Laughter once more and the moment is gone. "Damn" I literally think to myself... "Damn, damn, damn, damn damn!!!" I muster a smile and begin to participate in the small talk. I'll have to go to plan-b. I don't have a plan-b.  

Whilst tonight was a MAJOR breakthrough for us, I feel empty and sad. We haven't traversed the globe to make friends. Oh sure, friends are a great bi-product, but I really want to be a part of leading people to Christ and on a daily basis. I want to be a part of building His Kingdom.

I stroll around the camp, monitoring behaviours and looking for drugs. I chat to this person and that. I start to bide my time, wondering when this victorious night will end. I look over and see Jeddah sitting by himself. He's a troubled young chap, but like all of them, he has so much potential and no opportunities.

 

I casually wander over and sit next to him, on the cold, partially painted, green cement seat. "What's wrong?" I ask in Spanish. His eyes well with tears. "Jed, I have so many problems." My heart goes out to Jeddah. "What kind of problems?" I ask as gently, but as seriously as I can.

I do not want this life changing moment to dissolve into a two second joke, where I stand on my head, gargling dish washing liquid and singing the American Anthem, whilst also juggling live kittens on my bare feet.

"I smoke marijuana and use cocaine." This, I wasn't expecting. I'm not shocked. Seemingly nothing shocks me now. However, I am surprised.

"Do you have other problems?", I press, hoping his answer will be "no". "Yes, too many very bad problems", he stammers. "Well, Jesus can take all of those problems from you. Jesus came and died for ALL of your sins. He loves you, Jeddah. He's your father."

Jeddah starts to cry. His tight Latino lips quiver and his nose begins to run. I hug Jeddah and try to look into his pained eyes. He refuses to look at me, his entire person truly bogged down with a powerful guilt.

I ask about Jeddah's family, already knowing a fair bit. Jeddah is the nephew of Yader, our Centre's director, and this is not the first time Jeddah has had a spiritual encounter. When our pastor from Australia visited, he gave a strong word, which deeply impacted the people. Jeddah ended up manifesting, shaking violently on the ground.

Jeddah doesn't have a father, he only has a mother. Jeddah's entire family are very special to me. I don't know why, but there 's some sort of extraordinary quality which I can't put into words.

I grab Jeddah's face, like a father administering medicine to a resistant 10-year-old boy. I look at him dead in the eyes - his eyes lock with mine for the briefest of moments and then his eyes begin to roll.

"Jesus loves you" I state as a fact, barely able to get the words out, for the seriousness of this moment is affecting me and a very large lump had formed in my throat. "Nooo" he groans painfully as he begins to release the sourness of his heart. I grab Jeddah and hug him tight. He continues to cry for several minutes.

I call Francesca over and ask her to help me. Together we say the sinner's prayer. This moment seems to last an eternity. I say it first in English, Francesca repeats what I have said - but in Spanish, and then Jeddah repeats the Spanish version, before the cycle recommences with me.

Jeddah is free. He is still a sinner, but he is saved. We walk, arm in arm, over to where the remnants of the night are sitting, and proudly proclaim together Jeddah's admission of guilt and his need and acceptance of a saviour.

I joke with them all about needing to baptize Jeddah immediately. Before I know it, I'm being whisked away and thrown into the pool. I hit my back on the side of the pool and now I'm layed up with days of rest ahead. So clever aren't I? This cannot happen, especially not now!!!

Hmmm... I am learning that there is learning in just about every moment. So what have I learnt here? Well, I've learnt that whilst God may lead the way, be wise in what you do. He provides us with opportunities to have an impact on those around us, but our actions need to be in accordance with His will and confined to the level of our God-given human ability (Different to stepping out boldly in faith - our actions have to be within the direction of God's voice).

Hell is not just a bad holiday destination. It's hot, it'd deadly, and it lasts forever (global warming personified). How serious are you about your relationship with God? Are you waiting until later to sort out plans for your eternal home? If you know Jesus already, are you sharing Him with urgency? Are you frightened to scare off your friends with your loopy religion? Don't want to spoil dinner conversation? Heaven or Hell, it's for eternity...

POST by FRAN: Holy Fracturations!!!

Tuesday, 8th of May 2012 is a milestone for Billy. Something painstaking and exciting happened Tuesday in the late afternoon.

TAPA TAPA TAP is the sound of the keyboard on the laptop. I was sitting in the living room with my Dad, Lorenzy my sister, and Jocasta (a woman who came from Australia to help with the School). We were just hanging around and enjoying having the house quiet while the little boys were still outside. Mum was in her room almost asleep.

The boys were climbing trees and running around, getting all their energy out of their energetic bodies. These special moments, when the boys are all outside, only last about five minutes! The boys eventually came rushing through the back door into… yep… the KITCHEN!

But today only Sezni, Rafi and Brian came inside, nobody knew where Billy or Oliver were, not even the boys. We soon found out

¨OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!¨ The noise came from the little avocado tree outside. 

I got up and ran to the back door were I saw Oliver running over and he said ¨Billy fell down.¨ I told him to bring him to me (because I´m too lazy to do it myself), when the boys got back Billy floppily held up his arm for me to see, it looked like a brown road with a ditch at the end by his wrist, like a rock had been implanted into his arm. I picked up Billy and tried to keep his arm level and still but that is very difficult when one is running!

¨DAD!!!! I think Billy broke his arm!¨ I exclaimed with Billy still in my arms. ¨What?¨ was the lazy reply I received from my Dad. I held Billy´s arm in front of Dad´s face ¨look¨ Only Dad´s eyes looked up at me and then back to the laptop screen (he goes to a different planet when he is on the computer). He then realized that Billy´s arm looked different.

Dad yelled ¨we have to go to hospital!¨ As soon as Mum heard ¨hospital¨ she was up. She took Billy from me and was in the car like lightning. She was ready in the car with everything but her shoes and a sling for Billy! I ran into the house to get the sling and ran back to the car. I kicked off the shoes from my own feet and threw the two items into the car and ran to open the big, green gate.

Dad ran outside in his ´gym clothes´ which is a T-shirt with very large arm holes and short shorts. He jumped 

into the car, started the engine and reversed out from under a little car shelter. He reached the big, green gate, turned right and sped off.

Jocasta stayed inside, Oliver and Rafi were playing with a game on the porch. Sezni and Brian were both riding bikes and Yader, Lorenzy and I were sitting on the street outside of our house.  We stayed there for about three hours or until it started to get dark.

I walked back inside with Yader and Lorenzy and found all the boys crowded around together. Jocasta was making dinner, so Lorenzy went in the kitchen to help her. We ate in silence as we dwelled on the day´s events. MUNCH MUNCH MUNCH was all you could hear as we chewed our food. At 7PM Mum and Dad came home from the hospital.

Dad came in first and said “lorenzy if you haven’t made dinner I’m going to… Never mind.”  Then Mum and Billy came in, Mum came in with a sigh to show that she was tired and Billy came in with a cast on his delicate arm and with a soda can in his other hand.

All three of them sat down and Lorenzy bought them each a plate of food. Everyone was happy to see Billy all well and smiling again. Billy has to remain in the hot, sweaty cast for four weeks, but he loves all the attention!

POST by RENZ: Sez's Rearing Ride

My family has five horses and one of them is pregnant. They are quite small and quiet. All of them are pretty much like that except for one, "Mexico".

He is almost the smallest horse that we have but he thinks that he has a lot of 'power'. Even though he  supposedly got neutered, he still has a lot of pride. He will have to get neutered again because they didn't do it properly and so he still has it.

One day, we decided to go out on a ride with four of the horses because Midnight is too fast for any of us kids to go on  so we did not take her. I went on Cadburys. She is pregnant and get's into bad moods, but she is obedient.

Sezni went on Mexico and you already know how Mexico is. He is obedient when he wants to be but when there is a mare around he won't be so obedient. He sometimes goes wild. Sezni's favorite horse is Mexico so he always rides him.

My dad and Francesca also went. My dad went on our white horse which is called Cookie and Cookie does not like going up or down hills. He is the tallest horse that we have.

Francesca went on the smallest horse who is VERY stubborn. Her colour is really dark grey with white blurs all over her. 

That day we decided to go a different route which I had never gone on before. It was where there is mountains and is really pretty to go to. Since we went there, we go there quite a lot to let the horses eat grass and we just sit and do whatever we want to.

That day, we had a race to see who could go down and up the hill the fastest. I don't remember who won but it was fun anyway. When I go there, I usually bring a note book in which I can draw things in.

The path to get there is a dirt road and it gets ruined by the rain when it is the rainy season and so it has a lot of bumps and ditches.

When we were on our way home, there was a mare in a paddock when we passed it. She was sort of red with a blackish brownish main. Francesca and I passed her quickly because she looked sort of mean. Sezni came after us but when Mexico saw the mare, he started to go to her.

 Sezni did not know what to do. He was trying to control Mexico but he couldn't because Mexico was stronger. Mexico was trying to get onto the other side but he couldn't. All of a sudden he went on two feet and Sezni was yelling at the top of his lungs "HELP ME! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

 At first we were all just staring at him but then Francesca started to try and help him but her horse was too stubborn. Sezni was still screaming and my dad had his mouth wide open with the camera out and ready to take pictures but he was frozen.

Then my dad got back to his normal senses and went to go help my poor little brother.

Once we got out of that mess my brother was almost in tears and we were laughing but trying not to make Sezni feel bad. 

POST by JAZ: Captain Underpants Makes a Forever Impact...

You never know what adventures may or may not be in store when you embrace a new culture BUT this is an adventure, an experience that I never expected, to say I was stunned is really an understatement.

If it wasn't a regular occurrence then maybe, just maybe it would not have made such an impact but when a life impacting experience happens as part of daily life then one can't help but be impacted. Some might even say traumatized? You can choose whether this one should be a positive experience...

I had been in Nicaragua no more than 24 hours when Captain Underpants made his first appearance. Okay I will admit it was hot, Nicaragua is sticky and dusty. I was feeling more overwhelmed than I was expecting to be.

At this point, feeling isolated and all alone, I realised that it would have been of great benefit if I had been more diligent with those language learning CD's, however not even language learning could have prepared me for the statement that was about to come my way.

It was in this next moment that I questioned where I was and whether in fact this was the destination that God had called me to for such a time as this. It was one of those moments that will go down in the pages of history, along with all the other world's most astonishing moments that have taken place!

Captain Underpants enters the room, making his most profound proclamation of the day... 'I vowed that I wouldn't do this while you were here BUT I just don't feel like wearing pants... it's too HOTTTT! I hope you don't mind?'

Everyone in the room FROZE! Some in disbelief that Captain Underpants would be seen just in his trusty? underpants but with the omission of his magnificent cape, some in sheer embarrassment that Captain Underpants is actually related to them and others in shock, that yes in fact this was and is the most influential staff member at Capital Edge Community School...

I would like to be able to say that this experience was a once in a lifetime... that it was just some initiation experience, which all who are called by God to Capital Edge Community School have to go through to work out if they are really meant to be here.

If they can survive this Captain Underpants experience they can survive all things through Christ... BUT unfortunately for some of us it is a groundhog day experience, it is recurring... like a bad dream... los siento Captain Underpants... the thing that we never can be sure of is... when Captain Underpants will make his most profound proclamation and appearance again, so for this reason we always have to be prepared for the shock that we know is bound to come...

POST by LIZ: Foxy Morons

Friday was an oxymoron of a night!

A hundred and ten kids tearing through the centre; swimming, ping-ponging, fastidiously footballing, shooting hoops and basically chilling.  I love these teens. I love seeing the smiles on their faces and hearing the bouts of laughter, and I love knowing that their Friday nights used to be opposite to what they are nowadays. 

People responded positively to the disjointed devotion time.  Lips were actually mouthing the words to the songs our newly formed band belted out. Nicaragua seemed to stop and soak in Lorenzy´s, Fran´s and Yader´s mime performance depicting the physical/spiritual battles we mortals encounter. Heads bowed as Eduardo delivered the message then prayed. It was an awesome time.

But it was also a night filled with heartache; seeing kids as young as eleven high on homemade drugs and intoxicated with potent alcohol; young girls using their bodies to attract lustful attention, and watching the stifling effects of poverty and hopelessness.

We had gang members want to enter without surrendering their weapons, boys fooled into thinking they could hide their substance abuse from us even though the clouded, crazed look in their eyes snitched on them loud and clear.

Many find quick solutions to fix their habit and escape their depression: glue, house-cleaning products and whatever they can use to get that high. Homemade alcohol and drugs are easy to obtain.  Cheap to some, expensive to others. 

Pulperias, who bribe police, sell alcoholic substances that cause stomach rot and bone to decay and throw in a major hangover during this body eroding event. It costs about $2.50 for a 2 litre bottle, (it can be cheaper if the consumer provides the bottle). The word on the street is that two grams of pot costs less than $4, and one stick of marijuana costs less than 50 cents.     

Nicaraguan earnings are next to nothing, job opportunities are scarce, and a quality education is difficult to obtain. As a result, many youth in our barrio and surrounding neighbourhoods, are driven into a life of petty crime and corruption to feed their abusive habits which help them drift out of their harsh reality.

Throughout the night, Nestor pried baseball bats, pocket knives and machetes from hands as they entered through the gate. Jed sobered up bodies by throwing them into the pool, and I drew the short straw in having to speak with the 15 year old girl swimming provocatively in the pool, who was attempting to put into physical action Pitball´s controversial song, “Give me everything tonight”. 

 

My message was short and to the point “WAY too much love taking place right now, and put your t-shirt and shorts back on ASAP coz it´s not okay to go swimming in just your lacey underwear and hot-pink, push-up bra, that btw is two sizes too small!”   

While recalling the events of last night, I remember my dedicated mum. My dear mother, who never ceased to allow a night to go by without grabbing a cuppa T, finding a comfortable spot within a door frame at the top of the stairs, and reading stories of inspiring adventures to my siblings and me as we collapsed into our beds. 

The fairytale, The Faraway Tree, caused my imagination to dream of living and experiencing different worlds and people. The biography of the gang member turned Christian, Nicky Cruz, in Run-Baby-Run, deeply challenged me to truly believe God´s mighty powers of transforming the unlovely when just one person is willing to be God´s vessel.  The urge to develop bold faith – faith like that of David Wilkerson who snubbed his physical fears.

My mother´s sweet English voice hummed out stories, night after night. Stories of missionaries who willingly gave up everything and lived a life totally enthusiastic for the things of God. They all had a deep impact on me. Shaping me and inspiring me; particularly the life story of Jackie Pullinger, a woman who started a youth club for the opium drugged street kids of Hong Kong and made an incredible difference. 

Many have criticised what we have started.  Many have voiced how we focus too much on the fun.  Many have spoken out their concerns for our safety. Many question our state of mind!  (Okay, perhaps this one I question myself at times).  Sadly, it feels that many expect and some even hope that we fail.

And perhaps we will.  But when I see the faces of the oppressed, the broken, the bound, the addicted, the poor, the lost, the craving-for-love, the lonely, the unlovely. I see potential. I naively believe that through all the Friday night fun, relationships are being formed and lives are being transformed.

I don´t have much to give, yet what we have we´ll use. I still struggle with internal conflict and fall more than short of God´s glory and goodness, yet I know that God is using my inadequacies and gently encouraging me to trust him so much more.

Friday was enjoyable and hard!   

“As for me and my house, we´re gonna serve the Lord”