Nicaragua 6

It rained all night long... I love the sound of the rain falling on the tin roof, but, our hole we had been working on was full of deep puddles of water. With buckets we were able to get most of it out, but the mud was hardly a joy to get the wheelbarrow through. We took a short walk to one of the small shops located right outside the gates of the orphanage. With all the construction, men, LARGE puddles, and our very American ways, it was an adventure. Thankfully we had one of the missionary men with us. We got back to work digging, we would only have the next day afternoon and wanted to get as much as we could done. Finished the day playing with the children of course.

God is so good.

This is a Nicaraguan fly. What makes them different from North American flies? They are much more relaxed, takes their time, and enjoys life. Thus, allowing me to take a few pictures until I got it just right.

Nicaragua 5

We wake up to a rooster's crow and children playing volleyball. We begin work at 8:30, we are digging a 10by12by10 hole for a septic tank. The dirt is heavy, and with all the rain it only adds to the weight. I wheelbarrow dirt to the edge of a hill and watch as our mound slowly grows. Around 12 we break for lunch, it's the fourth of July so we have hot dogs, Doritos, potato salad, and soda. It was good to have American food. After lunch a few of us go to the market in Jinotega. We order coffee to bring home with us from a small Christian cafe. The men sit on steps whistling and trying out their english on us "Yooou have a beeeautyful smi-el." While sitting on steps waiting for some of our team members, a small boy walked up to us. He had a old gray ripped t-shirt, snotty nose, dirty face, bloated stomach and scar that ran across his head. I couldn't imagine the living conditions he endured. He was a poster child for poverty. He wanted his picture taken with the gringos. After re-joining with our team and heading into the market area, with fruits and vegatables and a abundance of fruit flies we bought what we needed for the orphanage and then began to head back to the bus. After realizing the small boy was following us, one of the orphanage directors hired him to help carry bags back to the bus. He was delighted, he swung the bag of pineapple onto his shoulder and walked back with his. His face filled with joy as he was paid will forever be in my mind. What a precious child. I don't know his name, and he doesn't know me, but he is someone I never want to forget. Hope exists among the least of these, the ones who may be last here on earth, but will be the greatest in heaven.

Nicaragua 4

On our way out the gates of Los Cedros and onto Jinotega, I felt a strong peace that this would not be my last time here. I knew they were in the best of care, and did not wish them all to come with me. I hoped they would find families, but within their cultures. While I was filled with God's peace, but at the same time I wanted selfishly to return. The drive into the mountains and to Jinotega was long, but the sights amazing. I wished to capture the sights, smells and sounds and bring them home with me. I miss it. Jinotega is beautiful. We played with the kids once arriving at the orphanage. They love volleyball, soccer, roller blading and basketball-anything athletic. After playing a while we sat on the front porch and listened to one of the little boy's story. Since he has scoliosis, his parents couldn't care for him and so his grandfather raised him. Now, his grandfather was blind and the boy couldn't walk. So he was hefted up onto the shoulders of his grandfather, becoming his grandfathers eyes, and his grandfather becoming his legs. This little boy now lives at the orphanage and has recently had surgery. He is one of the most charming little boys EVER. His story is incredible, the resilience of these people amaze me and continue to amaze me. The caregivers working in both orphanages amaze me. Nicaragua amazes me.

Nicaragua 3

Spent our last day at Los Cedros(The orphanage up to age 7), playing with the kids, planting 15 trees (while doing so saw a tarantula), and finished the day with a trip to the Pacific ocean. We were joined by some of the teenage boys and little ones who live at the orphanage. Beautiful baptisms took place there. Laying on the hammocks, listening to the sound of Spanish, the ice cream cart and the downpour of rain I realized how much I loved where I was. It's not necessarily the country I fallen in love with (although I love Nica), it's the atmosphere, the hope, the joy, the peace and even the humidity and heat. I love the sound of rain more than ever now, it reminds me of Nicaragua. We headed back to the orphanage, spent more time with the kids and had the best carrot salsa. Leaving was harder than I expected, I barely knew the kids there, and I knew they were in wonderful care... but it was still hard. I realized that this for me was not a 'Break my heart, God' trip. This trip only assured me that this place, this broken and beautiful place was where I belonged. Maybe not this country, but this different culture. This place overflowing with beauty.

Nicaragua 2

We woke up late and hurried to breakfast. Pancake, bacon, rice and beans. I'm already loving the food here. After breakfast we headed to a poverty stricken community. The houses are smaller than the average bedroom and made of tin roofs, that leak when the rain pours daily. We visit a preschool, the children are joyful, they laugh freely. The women who teach them are patient and full of life. Today they are learning their vowels. A few of the girls have malnutrition streaks in their hair and rotted teeth. I can't imagine living their lives, but to them this is all they know and they are happy and grateful. We walk through the neighborhood, a chicken feasts on bugs at the edge of the muddy road, a boy trudges along with a makeshift wagon holding buckets of water, a dog stumbles about seeking food, two children laugh pushing two old tires down the road, a rose bush blooms. We meet a family and ask if we can pray for them. They say yes, and then explain their situation. They have 7 children, the husband lost his hand and now is unable to find a job. Their poverty is unbelievable. The woman tells us passionately that she trust God and knows His will will be full filled. We pray. Then we leave. We hear shouting, a woman is beckoning us to come. We are the Americans, we have more. She talks fast and tells us she has a need for mattresses and sheets. Clothes dry on her clothes line. She asks us to come inside. Nine live in the home barely bigger than my dining room. We sing "Jesus loves me" to her and her family and she sings a song back in Spanish. We pray for her financial situation, and that her roof may be fixed from the rain that leaks through. Something on the stoves heats the house, when we walk back outside to the heat it seems not as hot. We head across the road to another family. A mother and a darling little girl. She tells us she needs prayer that her fruit would be plenty, and that the road would be fixed so the rain wouldn't flood her house. We pray for her. Then we leave. We pile on our bus and leave the barrios. We leave behind the people, the faces, the poverty. We know we will never live like that. We never have to pray that our fruit may ripen so that we will be able to feed our child. We don't have to pray that the street we live on will be fixed so that our home won't be flooded every time it rains. We take clean water for granted. We take nearly everything for granted. These beautiful people trust God, they have so much more faith than most Americans. They live in despire in our eyes, and we live in despire in theirs. We have too much material possessions and are lacking in faith, they have too little in material possession, but possess such a strong faith that God will see them through. They have joy while we worry about small worthless things. They have hope when we would turn on backs on God. What they do have, we can only long for. We will never live as passionately and humbly until we abandon all we have and live and love the least of these. Until we become small.

Nicaragua

Flying into Managua the pilot pointed out the volcano on our right. The brown lake filled with Managua's waste comes in sight below us. We finally hit the old runway with a thud. We are all excited and worn out from our red-eye flight. As soon as we step off the plane the heat and humidity welcomes us. We are finally in Nicaragua. We make a quick restroom stop before heading through customs. Toilet paper goes in the trashcan located in the bathroom stall. We make it through customs and get out bags from baggage claim, thankfully everything made it. Outside is noisy and many people walk along the sidewalks waiting for their loved ones. We throw our suitcases on the back of a pick-up and wait for our bus. A bald man dabs his forehead with a handkerchief. A dog pants. A man walks through the streets selling water from a dirty bag. I continue to take in the sights. A horse with ribs showing grazes on the side of the road. Children walk from the Christian acedemy in uniforms. Nicaraguans watching the bus full of gringos drive past. The U.S. embassy stands with a flag barely waving in the still humid air. A man sitting in a hammock. Coconut and banana trees. A crater lake. A prostitution hotel. The lushness that the rainy season has brought. Every person who walked past the bus speaking spanish held their own story. This is amazing. We reach the orphange and sit down to have lunch together. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, papaya and salad. We hold the babies. At the end of our night we sing worship together as the rain pours and the thunder shakes the ground. I see a creatures glowing eyes as it scrurries through the grass. I fall asleep listening to the rain and watching a lightning bug dance around the ceiling.