Loving and being loved by the Achi

It seems like a week and a year since I last updated this blog. We have done so much, been to many different places and have seen so many different people. Our nights, if we are in San Miguel Chicaj, are usually spent at some little church within a twenty mile radius of San Miguel. I am now at the point where I am talking Spanglish. It takes discipline to not interject Spanish while I am typing. I almost typed any given night 'mis tres jovenes y jo' instead of 'my three young adults and I'. Anyways, usually the four of us pile into a microbus along with Tania plus about a half dozen Achi and we head to church to play games, do music and preach to youth in the area. Most of the songs that we do are in Spanish along with a couple of Achi songs, but tonight we were asked to do at least one song in English. That is our typical evening.

Our non-typical days have been even more interesting and blessed. Once, very, very early in the morning we piled into our microbus, the Achi, the gringos and one Mexicana. We were told to bring our bedrolls (blankets and sheets) because we would be staying overnight. Sleep was impossible in the microbus because of the curves and the climbing and the drop offs. And that was the good part of the road. Then we reached a small village and turned off the paved road and started climbing a tortuous dirt road. In the USA this road would be considered a serious four wheel drive road and we were climbing it in a microbus that was occasionally bottoming out on the oil pan. I kept glancing back to see if we were trailing oil. Finally we made it to the the top and to a little Rabinal Achi village named Santa Ines. A herd of smiling kids were there to greet us. After we dumped our sleeping bags in two small store rooms (later we found out these two rooms were our his and her dormitories, complete with indestructible cement floor to rest your tired back ... all night) we climbed up a short path to a top of a hill to find the church, the church kitchen and most the village waiting for us. The location for this simple little church was absolutely beautiful. The air was clear, the mountains were incredibly green and we could see for miles. We had not had breakfast so we were offered atol which is a not quite tasteless thick creamy soup made from corn. Some of us had it with sugar but I asked for chili and salt. They must have thought I was an atol aficionado ("¿tienes sal y chile?") because they brought me a huge bowl of atol. Brian was in awe when I finished it. While I was waiting for my salt and chile I could see some of the men of the village looking at me and waving hello, so I went over and pulled out my family pictures and practiced my Spanish. I learned some new names and made a lot of new friends and had a great time. After we were filled up on atol, we were told to return back to where we were dropped off because the pastors wife had breakfast waiting for us. What!? There must be some misunderstanding, we thought. But we quietly had that discussion. These people literally scratch a living out of the soil and we knew whatever is put in front of us, we must eat it all, because it is a such a sacrifice on their part. So with eager smiles on our faces, we let our belts out a notch and headed down the hill for pinole and chicken and, of course, tortillas. And we finished everything in front of us and complimented the chefs.

We let the pinole settle and the next event was soccer. The field was some distance away, so they got a pickup for the gringos. And after we piled in the gringos and the Achi, about another dozen little kids piled in. And when I say pickup, I am talking Nissan size, not GMC. It was hilarious. Everytime we hit a bump, I would say, "Lo siento (I am sorry)" as I crushed the little guy in front of me. And after I was done crushing him, he would look up at me with a big beaming smile. After a bit of a ride, we got to a flat spot of some size with goals at either end and that was our soccer field. Teams were waiting and we contributed a few of our Achi to the fray and the games began. One sideline was a ravine and the ball was only considered out of bounds when it disappeared into the ravine, usually accompanied by a few tumbling players disappearing over the edge and lots of laughter. The other sideline was dense thicket and jungle and the ball was only considered out if it somehow wedged into the thicket. The match was a crazy blend of kicking, running, laughter, occasionally interrupted by actual displays of skill. It was hard to determine a loser, I think everyone was winners.

After a wonderful lunch of pinole and chicken, we did some home visits and prayed for families. We split into two groups started our visits. The team I was on had five families to visit and they were all within a quarter mile of each other. When we got back to the church we waited for the other team to return, and we waited, and we waited some more. Finally, bedraggled, they returned. It seems all four of their families were about a mile apart each and on top of mountains. They were exhausted.

Then after the dinner and the home visits, we went back to church and it seems the church was having a musical talent show that night. An Achi talent show is an unforgettable event and so much fun. First of all, all the amps are cranked up as loud as possible. Then it seems that if you owned a keyboard, you get to be in the band that played behind each one of the contestants. The band had one drummer, two guys on guitars and four keyboards. I am sure that two of guys had been playing keyboard at least six months, but I am less sure about the other two. It was great though. Three hours of pounding noise, praise, laughing and applause and some occasional music. I am sure this sounds like a rather disparaging description, but it really was a joy to see how much fun everyone was having. At the end, the pastor had everyone clap for the contestants and the volume of the clapping determined the winners. Of course it was impossible to determine applause volume differences, so the pastor was just telling jokes and being really random about who was a winner and everyone went home happy. We went to our sleeping quarters which were the two small rooms, one for the girls and one for the guys, and we spread our blankets on cement floors and slept like Achi.

The next day we attended about four hours of Sunday church and after the youth service that our Achi team led, all of the youth honored us and then each one of them came up and gave us each a hug. Then we piled into the microbus, thankful that it had not rained, and headed back down the hill to San Miguel Chicaj.

In closing, I want to try to convey what a home visit is like. I think these are my favorite parts of our mission. Either local pastors or some of the Achi on our team determine what homes we will visit. The homes we visit usually have clear prayer needs, either health or a non-believer, or it is the home of someone who has been in service to us and wants to continue to love on us. The homes are usually two or three room adobe homes with wood burning cookstove inside the house. Each room has a door that opens to a covered area that is open to the outside. We approach the home and from a distance start saying, "buenos dias", or " buenas tardes", or "Maria". No matter what the occupants name is, it seems that Maria is a customary thing to say when you are announcing your presence. After a while, a lady of the house will peek out and Hector or a pastor will explain our presence and then we will be invited to the covered but open to the outside area. All the chairs in the two or three rooms will be brought out for us and this is usually two to four chairs, the rest of us stand or sit on the low wall. Conversation takes place, often in Achi, so until we get a summary translation, we just sit and watch. If the person that needs prayer is bedridden due to sickness, injury or stroke, we will be invited inside. After a while, the discussion turns to prayer needs and spiritual health of the family. And then all of us are made aware of the prayer requests, and a pastor or I as the eldest, will be called to lead prayer. After the prayer is started, everyone starts praying, simultaneously and loudly. It is a chorus and cacauphany of prayer. It is an aroma lifted to God. It is my favorite time of our mission. A pleading for God's provision, recognition of His promises, and acknowledgement of His glory, and confession of our sins. Sometimes Christ will be received by a new believer and then other times a heart will be hardened, sadly. These are some of the times I feel closest to the Lord when I witness such dependence.