rural church

When we were up in the mountains recently, we spent Day 2 at the rural church. I have much to say yet about our outreach there.... so much to say, and a gazillion pictures, but I'm about to take an oozie to my internet. It's schizophrenic and doesn't know if it's high-speed or not. Mostly not. That one lovely picture up there took 5 minutes to upload. Five minutes. Which is better than the 10 to 20 it has been taking lately. Suffice is to say, this might take a while...

The rural church was rural. It is nestled snugly way back in the mountains about an hour and a half out a gravel road from the main paved road. It is one of the few buildings within miles around. Neighbors are very far apart. Walking to church may take a half an hour, an hour, or two. There is no running water, no flushing toilet, no refrigerator (see my bag of milk hanging outside in the cool mountain air, in a bag above the door, refrigerating?). There is no microwave, no corner store, no telephone, no internet, nada. Surprisingly there is cell phone reception, on clear days. But the two days we were there, rain rolled in over the mountains from the west and the signal disappeared. It is an isolating feeling. When people get sick or have an emergency, sometimes the only way to communicate is by radio. You know how truckers used to have CB radios back in the 80s? Like that.

Tony and our friend Miguel made several runs to a nearby stream to fetch water to flush the toilet. The stream had swelled from the day's rain. They carried several very heavy bucketsful of mountain run-off back to the church.

It's always good to be able to flush the toilet. :)

living here

Living here is like living on an emotional, daily, roller coaster. One minute we are flying high because we see God is so in this, the very next we are thrown down deep into a pit because of something that has happened. Third World missions, especially when your focus is the unreached poor, is really tough stuff. Believe me.

Most days we know why we are here, and we believe in what we are doing. We know that it is GOD who has called us here, not we ourselves.

But other days we wonder out loud, "Lord, Why did you bring us here?!". To think that we could be living the good life in America - man!

I mean, seriously, I miss my dryer. I miss my dishwasher. I miss my big, comfy house and tranquil life. I miss my culture. Yeah, isn't that weird? My culture. The one that doesn't expect me to explain myself because it already understands me. I miss my family. It hurts me when my kids ask, "When are we going to see Mom-mom again?", and all I can say is, "Well, God knows when we'll be able to go back and see her."

We miss snow. Tony misses the organization and safety in the US. Me, too. It is not easy for us to live here. It is a sacrifice in every way. In every way.

Tonight we were talking at the table, a late dinner, 9 o'clock or so.


Bam!

Did you hear that?

Yeah, I heard somethin'.

Sounded like a gunshot.

Nah.... I don't know. I think it was a firecracker.

Hm (head cocked, listening).

Bam!

There it is again!

Firecracker.

Yeah. Firecracker.

Well... that's good, then.

(conversation resumes)


It's hard not being able to talk to anyone here about things we find to be strange or difficult. Sharing our difficulties with our native friends, we run the risk of offending them or making them feel as if we are criticizing their home country. So we don't, because we aren't. We like it here in many ways; it's just difficult on a lot of fronts.

Gunshots, or even the possibility of gunshots, are not normal for us.

And shouldn't be.

In a perfect world.

But, at the end of the day, it's the small things that make it worth it - living here: the people we are reaching. The ones who have never heard before. Yes, that makes it worth it. I don't worry about the nuances of the future - will they get saved, will there be anyone to disciple them, is there a church in their location they can attend. I really don't worry about that sort of thing. God is faithful. This is His Business. The details are for Him to work out. Mostly, I'm just trying to get through today.

I find it hard enough to be faithful today.

I know God is able to not only save Camila, but He is also able to send help her way. Maybe we're it, maybe we're not. I do know He promises to give us the wisdom to know what to do if we ask.

He sends us the Holy Spirit at salvation to teach us all things. He promises to send her a Comforter, too. I often remember getting saved at my kitchen table in downtown Buenos Aires, all alone. I was lucky if I got to church a half a dozen times that first year. And yet, here I am. God has kept me.

He will keep the work of His hands.

I have no doubt about that.

So no, I'm not worried about Camila. God's got His eye on her. She is a sweet, sincere little girl that has a genuine hunger for God. I consider it a privilege and a pleasure to sit and read with her, explaining and helping her to understand God's Word. Even if her little brothers are climbing all over piles of scrap wood, pulling down their pants to pee as the urge dictates, who chase my own son with scraps of wood nailed into makeshift play swords.

I'm not worried at all. Mostly I stand in awe that we are here at all and God would chose to use us at all.

Lord, you are Good.

"not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance." -2 Peter 3:9



kids walking down street

It's normal to see kids walking down the street all by themselves here. It's a lot like life was back in the 70s and 80s in the States. Parents are much more relaxed with their kids here than we are, certainly than we are used to seeing. The youngest in this group was maybe 5 or 6. One of my daughter's friends, who is 8 years old, rides the bus by herself back and forth every day to her sports activities after school. No one seems to watch their kids very much here. We do. So that puts us in the slightly neurotic, over-protective crowd. Oh well. We don't do sleepovers either. Which makes us... something. Not sure what. But we feel it. Today we were driving out of our neighborhood and there was a little kid, just out of diapers, out in the street by the curb trying to ride his tricycle. This particular road is very well traveled with constant traffic. Grandpa was standing in the doorway just watching, none too concerned for the little boy's safety. We cringe and shake our heads in unbelief. God really protects a lot of these kids. Thank God for that.

Life is so different here.

the strange dichotomy in which we live

I thought these two videos were interesting enough to share. They contrast the Argentina we used to live in, and the one we find ourselves in now. Unrest and chaos, peace and order, past and present.


BUENOS AIRES: December 20, 2001 - right after we moved back to the US from Argentina
                                (worth watching just for the images alone)

(changing government, collapse of the economy, insuing riots)

PATAGONIA, 2012: after returning to Argentina from the US

(a Friday night's drive through the neighborhood)*

*Don't let the peace transmitted by the last video fool you. It's not always so. In the last two weeks I've been attacked by three different dogs in this same neighborhood. Thankfully, they didn't bite. I screamed, yelled, threw rocks. Tony said I should carry a chain. One wack over the head and they'll never attack me again. I might give up exercizing all together instead.

goin' to meeting

Since our van is broken, this is how we went to church on Sunday.

You know you're jealous, just admit it.

It felt kind of like an episode of Beverly Hillbillies. Especially when we had to share and pass around the only handle to crank open the windows. No seat belts, mind you - but, hey, who needs them? And keep in mind that the handle in the back seat does not open the window, but the door. This is important to remember when rounding a bend and you want to roll down the window... 

:)

Tea Break

Tony and a few other guys have been working on a farm lately, disassembling the bricks to an old barn. The bricks are being given to a family in humble circumstances, so that they may rebuild their house, which recently burned to the ground.

Mid-day, even in temperatures above 90 degrees, they insist on stopping for a mate (hot tea) break. I find the Argentine custom of drinking hot tea in the summer odd at best, but there are serious, die-hard, hot-mate-in-the-summer fans out there.

There is no electricity or way to heat their water on site, so here is how they prepared the hot water for their mate one sultry afternoon.

1. Search for high tree in which parrots make their huge meter-wide nests.

2. Gather several parrot nests that have fallen from the trees due to the blustery Patagonian winds.

3. Pile several nests and random pieces of wood in a little pyre.

4. Light fire.

5. Place plastic bottle filled with water close to fire, heating until very warm.

Lastly, show your wife the pictures so she can pray you don't get cancer from the toxins leached into the water from the plastic.

crazy rain, typical days

We were asked recently what a typical day for us looks like. We were actually confused by this question, unable to answer. Not because we don't have plans, or love routine or schedules, but because there is nothing typical about living here. Someone even asked this question of us last year, way before we even left for the mission field. As if we could possibly answer what our life would be like in a place we'd never been to sometime in the near or far future. We still marvel at this question. Apparently, missionaries in other places do, too.

Case in point:

We live in the desert. Rain is very rare. There was a drought for nine months last year. It began pouring the day we arrived here. I never did tell you how we spent an entire day, all five of us terribly sick, squeegy-ing the rainwater out the door of our little apartment as it threatened to flood us out and soak all our earthly belongings. Things are not built for rain here. Now it's raining again. This is Day 3 and it's supposed to thunderstorm again today, as well as rain tomorrow. Four days of rain here? Unheard of.

We spent Saturday night and all Sunday evening moving buckets and towels around as our tin roof leaked like Niagara Falls during the torrential downpour this past weekend. Our house is a new construction, so I guess as the first renters, we're the lucky ones to discover something's not quite right with the way they laid the corrugated tin sheets on the roof.

Our leaky roof didn't spoil our plans because we didn't really have any for the weekend, besides maybe rest. Very last minute, at church, while Tony was talking to several people, including the pastor, about all that is going on up in the slums, they decided to, very last minute,  all head up for a visit to see how we can further help our new friends there. So they went. Including the pastor. And, shocker, he didn't have to check his Day Planner first (love that).

While they were up there visiting, it began to downpour again. As I ran to place our only bucket under the biggest leak, I yelled at the kids to "Grab towels!".

They screamed and grabbed rags. Little itty bitty rags.

As I was yelling, "No, TOWELS! BIG towels! In the closet! In the bathroom! I don't know, just grab towels! AHHH!" the three year-old was walking around in circles with her little hands on her cheeks exlcaiming, "Ow howse is fwudding, ow howse is fwudding! Oh no, who wiw fix it?"

How do you make plans and complete them when your roof spontaneously springs massive leaks like that? After a while, you learn to "make plans" with quotation marks around them. You never know what could happen in the third world.

In the end, I do think we accomplish a lot here, eternally speaking, in spite of our lack of "planning". Definately more than we did in the US, Tony and I agree. God doesn't need our schedules and plans and meetings do His work. They can be an aid, even a help of course, but sometimes they can be a big hindrance.

Down here, we go with the flow. We have ideas, we make plans, and we have visions (many visions) for the future, sure. Just like Jesus did. But we go with the flow. Just like Jesus did. He was walking along one day, on his way to somewhere to see someone, and BAM. A woman with bleeding issues interrupts his day and *gasp* touches him. He stopped and helped her. His apparent plans and schedule were delayed. Shame on that wretched woman. He was late for a meeting. People were waiting for him. He had a PowerPoint presentation he had to give. He didn't get there when he was supposed to.

When we talk about walking as Jesus walked, what if it looked this way? Would it be wrong? Or Christ-like?

Well, I must get back to drying out all the towels we own before the rain begins again. Shame we don't have a dryer. I do pray the rain stops. But, if not, I guess it's God will for today that I mop up my wet floors. His grace covers leaky roofs, wet floors, and even more rain.

Our New Normal is...

{just to name a few...}

90 to 108 degrees every day, no A/C

eating dinner at 10pm

the kids going to bed at midnight. every night.

people showing up at your door unannounced and staying for hours

kissing everyone hello on the cheek

men kissing men hello on the cheek

volcanic ash is in the forecast

your neighbor getting Hepatitis A

your friend casually mentioning that her baby had Scarlett Fever

the house three blocks away gets infested with black widows

you find out there are also biting red ants, tarantulas, and coral snakes in your new home

you don't have a dishwasher

...or dryer

...or microwave (that works)

you've forgotten what it is like to have a dishwasher and dryer and microwave

you see the five year-old that lives next door walking down the street by herself

you can't eat breakfast because you're still too full from eating dinner at 10 at night

there were 5 murders last year in the neighborhood next door (oops, don't read that, Mom)

your toddler gets bitten by a dog and you're genuinely concerned about rabies

you toddler gets bitten by dogs all the time

going to the hospital, but leaving after two hours because no one seems to be attending patients

dinner guests come for dinner at 10 and leave at 1 or 2am

time is no longer an exact science, but is now expressed in terms of "in a little bit", "this afternoon sometime", or just "later"

a local farmer selling a cart full of fresh farm vegetables at your front door

going to the ATM but there in no money it

no car seats

going to church to find that someone threw a rock through the window leaving broken glass all over the floor

everyone shrugging nonchalantly at any of the above and even remarking, "oh, yeah... that's normal"

hearing your kids speak another language

being so proud daily of your amazing, awesomely generous, thoughtfully kind husband who is reaching so many more people for Christ than you every could

riding bikes with your kids and a dog-sized hare runs across the dirt road

when someone come to your door asking for a Bible

when little kids come to your door selling fresh-picked cherries from their cherry tree

getting mail once a month

never getting junk mail

when someone says they'll come by at 10 and show up at 12

when someone says they'll come by tomorrow, but shows up a week later

when you go to the gas station but they're all out of gas

blood-sucking gnats

Bible study starts (not ends) at 9pm

driving half the people you had over for Bible study home at midnight because they don't own a car

when your daughter begs to go with her dad to take everyone home at midnight, and you let her

losing your life for Christ's sake and find that you love the new life he gave you so much more than the old one

{And you wouldn't trade any of it for the world.}

the view when I wash the dishes sometimes

This hawk (of which we see a lot soaring over the neighborhood daily) decided to land on the neighbor's trash thingy while I was washing the dishes and staring out the window one day.

A "trash thingy" is my sophisticated name for the raised steel basket we all have to put our trash in here so the stray dogs don't tear your trashbags to pieces.

10 Tips to Remember When Washing Clothes in Patagonia

If you ever come to our house... which, I suppose, no one wants to do after reading our blog... BUT, in case you do, and you need to wash clothes here, it is good to remember the following:


10 Tips to Remember When Washing Clothes in Patagonia

1. Be sure to add 2-4 extra gallons of water to your small, front-loader washing machine, which has a phobia with water, and only uses a trickle to wash all your desert dust and sand-encrusted clothes.
2. Get over your addiction to your dryer. There aren't any here. Your clothes will never again be soft and fluffy, and your jeans will come off the line hard as cardboard. One day you will cease to notice this.
3. Check to make sure it's not too windy outside. Wind kicks up dust. Dust will coat all your whites with dirt.
4. When hanging clothes, make sure you shove those clothespins on as hard and as far down as you can. It will keep your nice, clean clothies from being whipped off the line and into the dirt. The dirt will not come out and you will have to rewash.
5. Hang all your thin synthetics and light fabrics first. By the time you get to the end of the line, they may already very likely be dry.
6. When you go out to hang clothes, be prepared to have long converstations with the neighbors and/or construction workers next door who love to yell "Good day!" over the fence/wall at you. Remember to smile and be nice. This is not, in fact, an invasion of your privacy.
7. Watch where you step, especially if you are wearing flip flops. Those red ants really get mad if you step in their nests and will swarm your feet and have them for lunch. And believe me, it hurts.
8. If you leave your residence or are headed to bed, make sure you take your clothes off the line first and bring them inside. That is, if you want to be absolutely sure they will still be there when you get home or get up.
9. Give all clothes a good shake for good measure. Black widows and ginormous wolf spiders live here.
10. Wash, hang, fold, repeat.

pictures, finally: Buenos Aires

I spoke waaaayyy too soon on the last post about how great we are doing. We no sooner left the internet cafe and Miss Baby got sick - again.

Feverish and hallucinating this time.

Oh, sweet Jesus, please make it stop.

It didn't help that the weather went from near 90 and hot to 65, very windy, and ashy. The sun was grayed out there was so much ash blowing in. It was surreal; wish I had pics. My anxiety came surging back with a vengance that evening. We were driving along in some gray, 4 o'clock haze with a sick baby and all I kept thinking as I gazed out the window at the grayness outside was, "This is not normal. This is not normal that people live here, like this, under these conditions. People should not live here... Why are we living here???"

So forgive me for the lack of pictures since we arrived here a month ago now. I just last night was able to find two hours late at night to read the manual for the cell phones we brought with us from the States (we marvel that going to the mission field has catapulted us into 2011 and technology - we were about the only ones we know back home that didn't have a cell phone... except the $10 cheapy from the pharmacy that Tony dropped in the snow once. When the snow melted two weeks later, I saw it sitting there, but the ringer no longer worked... pretty much useless.).

So, anyway, finally figured out how to download the pictures from our cell phones - it only took me two months. And thanks to some random, open internet signal here in the barrio - finally able to upload some pics! Woohoo!

So without much further ado, here are some long overdue pictures... just a few from the phones for starters.



standing in line at the Immigration Office: let the paperwork begin



Argentine bureaucracy at its best: standing in lines for hours for everything

(find the gringa in this photo)

a car on the sidewalk

riding the train

More to come (as long as my pirated gift-from-God signal holds out)...

:)

today and yesterday

Tony gave money to a street kid today. I don't know if that was good or bad. It's hard to know what is right in those situations. Some street kids here in Buenos Aires have homes, most do from what I understand. Their parents send them out to beg. If they come home with no money, they get beaten. The money they do come home with, the parents sometimes use it to buy alcohol, or even drugs. At least that's what Tony says. I guess he would know since he's from here.

My daughter was sitting in the back seat today when we stopped at a red light and Tony whistled the kid over. She asked why Papi just gave that kid something, and what did he give him? After I explained, she said, "I bet he has to decide if he's going to buy a toy for himself, or take the money home so he doesn't get beaten." I said, yes, maybe - he probably wasn't thinking to buy a toy for himself, but maybe just something to eat.

Today my two-year old was bothering a dog and got bitten - well, more like grazed on the arm. My first thought was rabies. My sister-in-law assured me that the dog was fully vaccinated, the dog is just old and doesn't want to be bothered, so she snapped. Sick sinking feeling in my stomach, followed by quick urgent pleading prayers as I scrubbed baby's arm with soap and water, and realized I just have to get used to these sorts of things - trusting that God will let me know when I really have to worry and when not.

Today my boy was taking a shower at midnight, after a long weekend out visiting and visiting and visiting ("I am so sick of visiting people all the time!" he said today) - when the water abrubtly shut off. We heard him crying in the shower and went running thinking he got electrocuted again or something. After realizing that, yes, there was suddenly no water in the house, I quickly scrounged around for a few bottles of drinking water which I heated up over the gas stove for Tony to pour over his head so he could rinse the shampoo and soap off. It was so sad when he said he was praying and crying out to God in the shower in his loudest voice to turn the water back on, but nothing happened. As Tony helped rinse him off with the bottled water, I prayed it would go far enough so he could. You never know what bad experience or the way you react to it will turn your kids off to God and ruin their faith... we seem to be walking on such eggs shells these days.

Yesterday we rode in a car that actually had seat belts in it. Wow, what a luxury!, I happily exclaimed to myself. I sat my littlest one on my lap and was able to strap both of us safely in, and even felt really good about doing so. Funny how your definition of safe begins to shift... Later we squeezed 7 people into that same little car: 5 in the back, piled up however we could fit us in, and 2 up front. ALL trips in cars here are bathed in much prayer.

Yesterday we had asado. 

Today we had asado. 

Tomorrow is a holiday, and I think we are having asado. Again. *sigh*

We have been out visiting old friends and remaining family members until you just don't want to see another person for a very long time. My kids are so tired of visiting people. I don't blame them. So am I.

Ah, but alas, we still have all Tony's childhood friends to see, and several more friends from his former work. (*sigh again*)

Yesterday Tony went out for a jog in the morning and was attacked by a dog who wanted to bite him. The dog jumped on him, Tony kicked him away and yelled at him, then took off after him yelling to scare him, and the dog finally ran away. He came back from his healthy little run a bit more sobered and not as much relaxed as he had expected. He also said he felt like his chest was going to explode from all the pollution. It's smells of diesel or cigarrette smoke all the time here. We were spoiled country folk back home.

(I'm still country folk - and still can't wait to get out of town. But, what can you do? Can't move back to Argentina and not see everyone. They'd be so offended if we didn't put in our mandatory two weeks here in BA. I hope it's enough, cause I ain't comin back here.)

just one more week, Lord-willing, til we head to Patagonia...

week one

I don't even know where to begin to describe Buenos Aires. Except to say that I honestly don't know how anyone can live here. I don't know how I did. It's crazier than New York, even Tony thinks so. I'd live in NY before I lived here in Buenos Aires.

This week I've been riding around in cars holding my baby on my lap - no carseats here.

Been sick to our stomachs, but you don't want the details to that, I'm sure.

We wake up to someone's rooster crowing. And a horse trotting down the city street drawing a rickety wood cart behind it.

The people. They're everywhere. 13 million.

Have had to hold my breath going into public bathrooms, and then could kick myself when I realize I forgot to bring my own toilet paper (it's BYOTP here, for the most part; we did see TP in the Burger King we found downtown today, though - score!).

Oh, and don't forget to throw the TP in the little trash can next to the toilet. The waste system does not process paper waste, so you can't throw it down the toilet.

When people come to work on the house (we're staying at my sister-in-law's), we have to close up the suitcases and hide them so nothing gets stolen. That takes like an hour since we have so much stuff.

When we're out, I've mostly had to change diapers with baby standing up, while trying to make sure my bags don't touch the icky floor.

Oh, and plenty of boobs hanging out here, nursing boobs that is. No one bats an eye. It's just the way it is.

Speaking of boobs, the television here is nasty. And it seems that in every house we go to, the TV is on - which is so draining. The other night there was a full-on strip tease on public television. I thank the Lord the kids were asleep and didn't happen to be walking by the TV. It's really hard being in other people's houses... what do you do? Turn their TV off? Ask them to watch something else? Leave? Awkward social moments, a few.

It's so noisy here. So noisy. Dogs barking, roosters crowing, motorcycles speeding by, your neighbor blasting loud music at any and all hours of the day, car alarms going off, buses, people yelling in the streets...

We've almost been hit by cars crossing the street, or at least avoided being hit, several times.

Breathed in plenty of diesel exhaust, which turns the inside of your nose black.

Been chased by a few dogs.

Have had to get used to watching where we step when we go out for a walk. When there's a sidewalk. Sometimes it abrubtly ends in dirt or rubble or trash or sad tufts of grass.

The stores are so small you can barely move.

So are the rooms in the houses.

You have to be buzzed into, and out of, some stores for security purposes.

My niece was robbed at gunpoint right outside her house. She told me this last night, at her house. She was sitting there on her cell phone, someone put a gun to her head, and stole her phone. Fortunately for her that's all he took.

The sodas are still served in glass bottles. And they taste so much better.

Dinner's at 10pm. 8 or 9 is early. [The kids are doing surprisingly well with it, though. God's grace, the only reason.]

We're not getting fat from eating 4 times a day (breakfast, lunch, tea/snack time, dinner) because we're walking A LOT. And we have those stomach issues... but I mentioned that.

The food here is delicious, it's just a lot of meat, white flour, white sugar, and fat. Not a salad in sight, unless you beg. Which I've had to do. It's surreal when you get strange looks for asking for a salad.

We started our paperwork this week. What a nightmare. Talk about bureaucracy. No paying bills on the internet, no errands that last only 10-15 minutes, like in the bank and out in 5 minutes. Everything takes hours. Sometimes half a day.

I wish I knew how to transfer the pictures from my cell to the computer - I'd show you the lines we've had to stand in. Everywhere you go you stand in lines. Often for hours. Today we saw a line for an ATM that was at least 100 people long. At least.

I don't have any pictures to post at the moment. Hubs won't let me take the camera out of the house. Let alone stand there in the middle of the streak gawking like a tourist snapping touristy-like shots of all the crazy things one sees here.

Yes, I used to live here. But that was a long time ago.

We visited a bank today to open an account. We are not permitted to because we are not residents. Even though Tony is a citizen, he does not have a job or a permanent address here with bills to prove it, so sorry - no bank account for you. They said that the central bank here in Argentina imposed stricter requirements several years ago on opening bank accounts in order to crack down on money laundering. Yeah.

Which means a huge headache for us, because we have our container coming and no money to get it out of customs, since it's all in our bank account at home. Praying for a way to be able to transfer it down here somehow. I keep telling Tony not to worry, it'll all work out. God is with us, right?

The good news: we're all still alive. At least bodily. I'm only holding onto a shred of sanity by God's grace. A really thin thread of it. I can't wait to get out of this city. I really do not like it here. Never have. Pretty sure I never will.

Interestingly Tony is experiencing some serious reverse culture shock. He was about to lose it in the bank today he was so frustrated with the system. Welcome to Argentina, we joked - although we weren't really laughing.

My culture shock is coming in other ways. Mostly having to do with dealing with family. It's a totally different culture. Totally.

We are finally feeling the full-on shock of where were are. We're definately not in Kansas anymore, Toto!

Someone posted a picture on FB today from back home. Ahhh, home. It was so pretty. It's SO pretty in the States. It's so not pretty here. It's just not.

Anyway, my apologies for a choppy, poorly written post. It reflects my state of mind: overwhelmed and completely scrambled. I can't seem to process much right now, it's stimulous overload.

How are the kids? My boy broke out in cold sores all over his mouth, like all over, from the stress and change in food. Poor thing. He's still doing his math every morning, though. I think he's just craving something familiar - even if it's math!

My daughter came bawling her eyes out the other day after her shower, "I just can't take it anymore, it's so overwhelming here." She had taken a cold shower because she didn't know how to work the hot and cold water, and it sent her over the edge.

My baby is no longer half-potty trained, but regressed totally and wants to "go home" to go to bed.

IT'S HARD. I won't lie.

We're staying with family here. That is probably the hardest part of all. It's craziness. But I'm a Christian missionary, so they're still alive. And should probably thank the Lord I have Jesus and not an oozy. Or maybe an AK-47. [Sorry. That's not nice.]

God? He's around here somewhere, at least I believe He is. I can hardly see Him. We are so totally and completely immersed in the craziness here and so totally consumed at the moment with taking care of the kids, paperwork/move-related errands, and staying alive that we barely have time to read our Bibles or pray. And we feel it. I told Tony if we don't leave BA soon, someone's gonna die. [Okay, I exaggerate. A little.]

Traumatized and culture shocked would be a good way to describe our first week in Buenos Aires.

I can't wait to get out of town and head to Patagonia! But you probably could have guessed that. Pray no one loses their life or sanity before we do.

I think Patagonia will be different, I really do. I think we'll be much better once we get there. Some space and some mellower people will do us all some good!

The Famous Argentinian Asado

Today was Day 3 of family reunions/welcome home parties. Which means more food. A LOT more food.

People started arriving at 11 or so this morning to buy the food, prepare the grills, and make the salads. (UPDATE: It's 10:30, and the second round (dinner) has just begun. By God's grace, and only His grace, I'm doing okay with it all. I think am even enjoying myself. Probably having the nicest time I've ever had in Argentina. Tony's family is really very sweet, they have great hearts and are a lot of fun. I am feeling very comfortable here, the kids are, too; Tony's the one experiencing the culture shock for some reason. The kids were also having full on conversations in Spanish today- we couldn't believe it! FULL SENTENCES, all on their own. I teared up hearing them. It was amazing. Thanks for your prayers, we are feeling them!)

Right now I am sitting on the floor in the dining room, surrounding by about 30 adults and kids making all sorts of noise, the tables all having been moved outside for the traditional Argentine asado. Can't concentrate to write much, so here are some pics...

Breakfast: mate (MAH-tay, Argentine green tea) and toast with butter and dulce de leche (caramel spread)



the back patio where we had the asado (Argentine BBQ) -
we took the clothes off the clothes line (no dryers here) before starting the fire
 so they wouldn't get all smokey smelling

it was a beautiful spring day

the view over the wall into the neighbors' yard (most houses have iron fences or walls around them)

appetizers

the meat

more meat

herbed provolone for the grill

mustard oregano lemon oil dressing for chicken

homemade chimichurri, a dressing/sauce to drizzle over your meat

making a makeshift grill: placing the bricks and wetting the grass

next, placing the tin base and the grill

preparing the coals (the main grill is in the background)

placing the meat on the grill

grill #2: the main grill

shoveling the coal to feed both the grills

even the smoke smelled good

the finished product

For a more enjoyable stay for visitors to Argentina, make sure you bring your favorite stool softener or a box of Ex-lax. Just trying to be helpful. Your intestines will thank you for it.

:)

the trip and life on the other side

The journey from our old home in the States to our new home in Argentina started on Tuesday night and didn't end until early Thursday morning. It's now Friday, and we are feeling a bit more rested up and settled in. Well, as much as you can be settled in when you're homeless, and living out of suitcases, and other people's houses, in a foreign country... you know.

Tuesday night some friends  - who have a van big enough to fit us, them, and our 10 suitcases + 5 carry ons - drove us to JFK Airport, about a 3 hour drive.

We grabbed a few hours of sleep at a hotel near the airport (also compliments of friends!), only to get up at 5am for a long 24-hour day of travel.

We traveled TAM, a Brazilian airline (one way tickets, by the way:)). It was kind of nice to be waited on, with nothing to do but watch movies and TV - something I, um, let's see... never do. The kids were in their glory, each with their very own TV on the seat in front of them; they were glued to it the entire time, and we hardly heard a peep from them. It was also neat to practice my Portuguese, be able to understand everything the flight attendants said, and watch some Brazilian TV shows - I forgot how good (in a wordly way) they are.

Keeping the toddler busy and out of trouble was not easy - and we were praising Jesus when she finally passed out while eating lunch, after having been up since 5am.

Our connecting flight from Sao Paolo to Buenos Aires was on a smaller plane, this time full of Argentinians instead of Brazilians. The plane was so much noisier than the big airbus we had been on - that, plus the stress of travelling that far with kids - gave me a migraine, so I was not a happy camper the last leg of our journey.

Finally, after 13 hours flying time, and almost 24 hours awake, we made it to Argentina. We woke the kids up at 2am to shuffle them through Immigration and Customs. It went well - except for the $420 they took from us: the "Entry Fee" for North American, British and Australian citizens. Fortunately, when the cashier saw on our son´s passport that he was born in Buenos Aires (which makes him an Argentine citizen), she didn't charge him the $120 Entry Fee - even though he was entering with a US passport. God saved us some money again - sweet!

Tony's brother-in-law and family were waiting to pick us up. Everybody was tired, one was bawling and just wanting a bed - but, of course, some of Tony's family was still up and waiting for us when we pulled in at 3:30 in the morning.

They had been cooking all night for the following day's festivities.

I struggle with having to be nice and smiley and chatty at that hour - but we survived and were finally able to hit the hay at 5am.

The next morning family started pouring in early to say hi and stay for a huge meal. It worked out that several people had off work, and the kids didn't have school because all the teachers in the country are on strike. Apparently a mom and a student beat a teacher up somewhere, so all the teachers in the country went on strike... or, at least, that's what I understood. lol Welcome to Argentina.

homemade ñoquis [gnocchis] with tomato sauce, all made from scratch

beef stuffed with garlic and parsley... so tender

bife con relleno... mmmmm

juicy, moist, beef empanadas

Since I woke up with a mild migraine the first day, all the noise and commotion was a little challenging. To make matters quickly and exponentially worse, the 2 year-old almost immediately fell from the 2nd story of the not-baby proofed stairs... see how wide those slats are??

I was a nervous, sleep-deprived wreck that first morning. I still can´t take my eyes off her here. We're doing better now - she knows she's not allowed on those stairs alone. I don't know how my sister-in-law raised two boys with those stairs!

My boy also electrocuted himself trying to plug one of these 220-120 converters in...

and I offended my brother-in-law because I yelled at him (I'm good at that here - offending people. I don't mean to, I just always end up doing it.). I couldn't help yelling at him, though. He was showing the girls the patio on the second floor, and he picked my baby up to stand on the ledge so "she could see better". But he was holding her... so that was silly of me to yell Noooooooooooo!

Which I did.

Loudly.

(sigh)

Not a great way to start our first day.

Things did improve by dinner, though. The Aleve kicked in and many more warm and lively family members descended on the premises with hugs and kisses and laughs and cameras.

Some good news: the kids have already started speaking  Spanish:

What is wrong with this picture?
Why, absolutely nothing.
I always keep my eggs on top of the fridge,
don't you?

Hola, tia. [Hi, aunt.] 

Hola, tio. [Hi, uncle.]

Bien. [Good.]

Si, por favor. [Yes, please.] 

Gracias. [Thank you.] 

Un poquito de puré de zapallo, por favor. [A little more mashed butternut squash, please.]

Me gustó mucho la pizza. [I liked the pizza a lot. My boy really said that! All by himself!]

...and so on and so forth. It's ador-a-ble. Here they were so worried about not being able to speak Spanish, but I can tell they will be just fine.

Today, our second day here in Buenos Aires, we woke up to birdies chirping (spring has sprung here), the sound of a horse trotting down the street, several dogs barking, and somebody yelling over a loudspeaker advertising something. Welcome to South America. lol