October 30, 2006

Dear Friends,

We arrived in Barranquilla on September 18. What a joyous day! We are excited to begin our ministry here in Colombia. We arrived just a few days after Barranquilla experienced a tornado that damaged the Presbyterian school, Colegio Americana, and ripped the roofs off many homes in the area. Fortunately, no one was killed and the injuries were not severe. This was the worst tornado in their history.

The Colombian people are very friendly. The pace of life is slower than in the States, and people want to talk and joke and laugh. It is also very hot and humid, so the period from noon to 2:00 p.m. is set aside for siesta. It really works, too, because of the heat, we find ourselves ready for a nap after lunch. This doesn’t mean that they don’t work hard. On the contrary, work is very hard. The street vendors push carts or ride on tricyles with large baskets of supplies every morning and evening to their selling site. They “hawk” their wares in sun, rain, and wind, and take care not to be run over by the many taxis and motorcycles that weave in and out of traffic, honking their horns. It’s a “pedestrian beware” atmosphere.

Barranquilla is a beautiful, large, growing city on the Magdalena River, the most important river in Colombia. It has a new shopping mall that makes you think you are in the United States. But when you travel in other areas, you see people sleeping on the street, selling gum and candy on street corners, washing windshields at stop lights, and living in displacement camps off the “beaten track.” We took a taxi to one of them and the driver had to stop a couple of times to ask how to get there. The camp was a very close community of people who had fled their farms for safety. Now they live on land that they don’t own, have makeshift houses of two or three rooms, sleep in hammocks, and cook and live outdoors. They are looked down on by others because they are poor and homeless. But they make do by planting food, fruit trees, making cookies or other food to sell and in this way eke out a simple life. They want to obtain rights to their original lands, but it is risky and difficult. There are some government agencies that help, but not enough.

One woman devised a way to cook her molasses cookies. By trial and error, she found it was better to set the fire above the oven than below. The “oven” was a large, round, metal pan in the shape of a wok, which was covered with a metal top from a barrel. Over that she built a wood fire and baked her cookies inside. They were delicious. She offered us one to share. Then we all bought some. She continued to make cookies while we talked. It looked like the daily supply would be about five dozen large cookies. She sends her son to the entrance to the camp where he sells to passers-by.

In comparison, we complain because our temporary housing situation doesn’t have a stove. We do have a microwave and fix our meals with that. If you live in the United States, that wouldn’t be too bad. But in Colombia, we don’t have access to the packaged food available for microwave cooking. So, with help from friends and “googling” for recipes, we enjoy scrambled eggs, baked potatoes, rice, vegetables, and a few canned items available at the store. And we keep reminding ourselves that we don’t have to cook outside on a makeshift stove.

Our language skills are improving slowly. But we still have our problems. John went out for a run and decided to go a little further than usual. He thought he was making the correct turns, but as it started to get dark, he realized that he was lost. He hailed a taxi and tried to give directions but our accent makes us hard to understand. After 15 minutes of driving around and not recognizing any landmarks, he got out and tried to get help from a couple of women storeowners. They finally called the police. The police hailed another cab and, with one policeman in the cab with John and the other on his motorcycle, they made it home. Instead of a 30- or 40-minute run, it was a two-hour adventure that ended well. Normally, a cab ride costs 4,000 to 5,000 pesos. This one was 15,000 (a dollar is worth 2,400 pesos). So John was a long way from home. Now John will do his daily running on the streets around our house, where the neighbors know him.

We continue to thank God for allowing us to be where we are, working with our Colombian partners. We thank all of you for your concerns, support, and interest in what we are doing here in Colombia.

In love and peace,

Paula and John Ewers

The 2006 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 48