Dear Friends,

For your enjoyment, if so inclined, a note concerning the adventures of mission life in Guatemala at least one mission worker, me!

Two actual tales

Friday I had an appointment in the central area. As I was going to the car, the landlord came with a workman to get the closet doors from one of the bedrooms. The doors seem infested with some bug that is eating away, leaving tracks of sawdust. I told Don César that I couldn’t stay and there was no one home. After making arrangements for him to come later, he turned around and drove out opening the big gate with the gate opener. I immediately followed. He stopped at the street before turning left while I was halfway through the gate. He didn’t move and the gate bumped into our car, wedging me so I couldn’t move.

Fortunately, he looked in his rearview mirror, jumped out of the pickup, and came to try and move the gate. This is heavy metal, mind you. Door wouldn’t budge one centimeter with both of them pulling and tugging. They examined the door and couldn’t figure out what to do. Meanwhile, the electric motor is grinding away. He had a stepladder in the pickup so got it to look into the motor box. When he opened it he was drowned with the f-i-n-e dust that is blowing and collecting in every spot, plus a few leaves. He started pulling on some wires and the box began to smoke. At that point I was wondering if I should vacate the car. He came off the ladder quickly, ran around to the other side working to cut off the electricity box. Success.

Then he and the other man pulled back on the door, one of them on each side of the door, giving me about two inches in which to maneuver. By cranking the wheel hard to the right I was able to back away. Fortunately we have a rib that runs parallel to the window on the crease of the door by the handle so the metal of the car was not damaged, just an indentation. Electricity was turned on and the door resumed working as prescribed.

Telling him about the dangers of such carelessness in not having an object sensor on the door to retract if it hit an object, he was quick to agree. I wasn’t as concerned for our car as I am in projecting if the gate were to strike a child, or a person going through on a bicycle. One can press the gate opener before passing the wall leading to the house and so can’t see what is going on around the corner of the entrance of the gateway. Anyway, Martin told me he could see the headlines in the Prensa: Eaten by gate: Gastritis at 2a Calle 5-42, Floresta.

Second

Went to church Sunday and the regular musician wasn’t there. They asked me if I would be willing to play. They have a keyboard, of which I knew nothing about, as it had buttons I’d not seen. There was a band playing in the park across from the church, and when I played, the sounds intertwined with a solid beat.

When the band stopped, and we were singing, there remained a drumming sound. I played for the women’s chorus, and the beat was still there. The beat was there again as the youth sang "The Old Rugged Cross." Finally, thinking it was really coming from this keyboard, I tried to figure out what was going on. The keyboard in front, viewed clearly by all, and I found it difficult to be discreet! When I finally figured out the numbers which were showing on the window for selections, I discovered we had been singing all the hymns to a salsa beat, and it was Communion Sunday! Santa Cena con salsa! At this point, I decided not to play anything during the passing of the elements, which would have been a tad sacreligious for this collection of people, who don’t think dancing belongs in church! This, too, gave me time to think and figure out what I could do. One button combination didn’t work—some programmed rock-bossa nova beat began playing on its own. I quickly shut off the switch trying to keep my composure, biting my cheeks so as not to break out in holy laughter while my stomach muscles were flinching away with holy glee!

The last hymn came and I was flinching as I started to play. Miracle of miracles, something I did cut the beat. But, oh my, the hymns may have never been sung with such swing, zest, spirit, for these parts!

I laid in bed last night laughing all over again.

Blessings, and yes, as the hymn goes, "Dance, dance wherever you may be"

Selena

The 2002 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 236