Double Takes

I can honestly say that almost every day in Bolivia has it's own unique story. One morning last week, the bell rang and the water metre man was standing outside my gate. Normally he measures the water metre with his little machine thing, hands me the bill, and leaves. Apparently he woke up on the chatty side of the bed that day. He began to comment on my height and said that he was still a little taller than I (unusual!). He asked if I was German and I told him my family originates from Holland. At that point I was opening the gate to my missionary neigbour's place so that he could work his water ways over there. The conversation continued and I thought, "He is quite good looking...and tall! Maybe he follows Christ too!" He whipped out his metre one more time, looked me in the eye and said, "Como se consigue su numero?". Which in English means, "How does one get your number?" I held his gaze, slightly unnerved, but not too much because being hit on by Bolivian men is a regular occurence. At which point he shook his head, laughed, and clarified,"I mean your feet! Where do you find your shoe size?" So, instead of flattered, I was reminded of my freakish size.

The same week, while at the girl's home, Hermana Delmira and I were cooking lunch when the phone rang. It was the mayor's office with an offer of clothes for the home. I'm told that when the mayor and company call and have something to donate, one always says yes or the next time you will be bypassed. Off went the Hermana to collect on the call. She arrived a couple of hours later accompanied by two mid-sized cattle trucks full of clothes...old, out-of-date, really smelly clothes. It was not the handful of bags that my co-worker was expecting when she set out. The act of charity on the behalf of the local government turned into a forced acceptance of unwanted clothing on our part. In reality, we helped them, they did (and do) nothing for us.

It is a good rule of thumb to take everything you hear and see in Bolivia...and wait. Wait until you are sure that what you are hearing and seeing is really what you think you are hearing and seeing.

Sorry, no picture of the water man...

Attack of the Mandarin

A mandarin was launched at full force by one our teenage girls the other week...at my head. It was not an isolated act of insolence but the peak of accumulative, hate-laced actions over the last half year. It made me so angry that I swung myself around and whacked her arm while screaming about her lack of respect and obedience. Not exactly what I should have done in retrospect but that was my reaction. This young lady, Marielena, walks by me and hisses, "I hate you". She slams doors in my face and brazenly does the exact opposite of what I ask her to do. She lies to me constantly and refuses to accept responsibility for any chore or misdeed that pertains to her. Although I have received the brunt of her calculated evils, other girls have had their cheeks gouged, hair pulled, and one of the cats almost lost it's life. When I saw her squeezing our smallest cat, her eyes bore the intent to injure and perhaps kill. Her moods can swing from destructive to carefree in just seconds. It is baffling and utterly bewildering.

Perhaps the most baffling part of it all is that she has also written me letters requesting that I adopt her and bring her back to Canada. She has asked my friend and I to be her parents. She has given me several bracelets and coloured me pictures. Some days, she will hug me desperately and plead with me not to leave. Marielena is without question the most needy and infuriating girl that I have ever had to work with.

This past week at a missionary meeting, we listened to Gary Smalley speak about anger. I freely admit that Marielena makes me angry every time I see her. The Smalley video made me remember a time when my Dad became very angry with me for making my youngest brother bite my other brother. I denied it vehemently even though it was true. As I lay in my bed, my Dad came into my room and apologized for his anger...even though he was completely in the right. That memory and it's impact led me to invite Marielena over for a supper and a special chat.

As soon as we entered the house, she became indifferent and unresponsive. I gave her some food, made some tea, and we played a game of UNO. Afterwards, I showed her some pictures and videos on my computer. She started to relax and laugh with me. Finally, I began to address the real reason I had invited her over, our volatile relationship. Shortly after I had hit her arm and yelled at her for the mandarin attack, I read this from 1 Peter 2:23, "When they hurled their insults (insert mandarin here) at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly." I am pretty sure that Jesus did not see citric fruit flying past his head. I am also certain that what he did see and feel and experience profoundly transcends the minimal abuse that I receive. With this in mind and Smalley's admonition to humble ourselves, I asked Marielena's forgiveness for my anger and impatience towards her. I told her that I wanted to work at improving our relationship and my responses to her. Assurances of love and care were offered to her. Her initial indifference returned but a few tears did slip out as she covered her face with her hands. As I like to do, I prayed for her and over her.

After a lengthy period of silence, I got up and said that it was time to return to the home. She arose with a steady glare and stomped her way to the truck. The short ride was stonily quiet and upon arrival, I reminded her that I loved her and she could speak to me at any time. That suggestion spurred her to slam the vehicle's door as she continued to stab me with her eye darts.

Driving back to the house, I waged war with Satan and told him he was a loser who may as well back down. I realized that he had been gaining ground within me and that was why my reactions to Marielena were so fleshly and unChrist-like. Some days, I just want to kick the Devil in the face. Instead, I will hurl my best weapon at him and God can crush him later. "Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing." 1 Peter 3:9. I will hurl it with all the force of Christ in me.