After a 7-11 stop for some much needed protein, we drove up the first part of the ridge through a very ritzy gated community. We kept going up and eventually urban sprawl gave way to the trailhead. And then we hiked.

I can’t remember the last time I hiked, maybe because I don’t think I’ve actually done it before. In spite of the fact I had no idea what I was doing, God wanted me to be a hiker that day. So we hiked… and hiked… and hiked. Then we sat on a rock. Then we hiked more.

I have never “hit the wall” before, because I usually quit doing whatever I’m doing to make me that tired far before I get to that part. Today was my day. I hit the wall with about 3/4 of a mile left to go… straight up the face of the mountain. Normally I would throw in the towel and say, “This is good. We don’t need to go any farther.”

Now I don’t know if it was the Holy Spirit taking over, the protein bar I downed or the thought of being on top of that mountain, but I got my 2nd wind. I stopped thinking about how tired I was and just thought about the top. And up we went. In what felt like minutes, we cleared the last set of ropes that help you climb the steep parts and the last few steps up a rudimentary staircase we saw the sign, “End of Trail.” We made it and I looked around… and I couldn’t see 5 feet in front of my face. We were standing in the middle of a cloud. And this is where the story gets cool.

Ever since I was a little kid I have wanted to know what it would be like to be in a cloud. I remember flying in planes looking down and imagining running across the tops of those puffy balls of cotton. And there I was. Check that one of list of impossible goals accomplished.

How did it feel? Well, you’ll just have to climb a mountain and find out for yourself.

The Epilogue:

So I just assumed God wanted me at the top of the mountain so I could check that cloud thing off my list. Then I prayed the next day.

Where I left off reading, “Jesus of Nazareth” I was reading about the importance of Mountains. The next day, I read about the importance of clouds.

The Lord speaks in a cloud. In Exodus, it’s in the cloud that descends upon the tent that God speaks to Moses and during the Transfiguration, it’s the cloud that descends upon Peter, James and John to let them know they are in the presence of God. And it was in the cloud 2,000 years later that, not being able to see 5 feet in front of my face, I saw God clearly. Do I know what that sentence means? Yes. Can I explain what that sentence means? No.

He is beautiful and I’ve been blessed to see Him so close to heaven. I’ll be climbing that mountain for the rest of my life, and hopefully on the days when I can only feel how tired I am, I’ll be able to see the summit and get my legs moving again.

I’ll race you if you want.

Dustin’s friend Ryan picked us up from the airport and we went for a tour of the southeast part of the island. We ended up going to dinner at a Hawaii original called “L&L Drive-Thru.” Interestingly enough, there was no drive-thru. I learned a very valuable lesson at this fine establishment; don’t eat what you don’t recognize. I ordered something called Lau Lau which I have since determined is pork, fish and rice steamed in some sort of leaf. This tasty treat smells kind of like a hog farm and tastes slightly less appetizing. Afterward it felt like I was carrying around a rock in my mid-section.

We went to the beach in Hawaii-Kai for the 4th of July Fireworks display. It’s hard to look around this tropic island with it’s own culture and way of doing things and think “Lee Greenwood- Proud to be an American.” Yet that’s what was playing during the fireworks display. It was a little surreal to say the least. I was pretty wiped out so we headed back to Ryan’s house and tucked in for the night.

The next morning Dustin and I took a very long bus ride to the wrong rental car place in Waikiki. Luckily we caught a taxi and with moments to spare, we busted through the Enterprise Rental Car doors and rented the exact same car we rented in California, a dark blue Chevy Cobalt. I think Enterprise got a deal on them because I can’t see them being a very desirable color for the buying public.

That afternoon we dined on a DELICIOUS lunch of Jamba Juice and Teddy’s Cheeseburgers which, in one bite, surpassed Sonic as my favorite Cheeseburger. We headed out to the golf course to play a quick round which, the way we play, turned into a long 3/4’s complete round. Then we went back to Honolulu to a cigar shop that Dustin knew about. A couple cigars later we drove a very smokey car back to Ryan’s and crashed.

The next day we were set to go to Waikiki and surf the day away but I guess God had other plans.

I’ve been reading Pope Benedict’s book, “Jesus of Nazareth” and that morning during prayer, I was reading the section about Jesus’ Transfiguration. Pope Benedict started talking about the importance of the mountain throughout scripture, focusing mainly on the mountain’s in Christ’s journey. It felt like every other word was mountain. Then I realized I was literally sitting on a mountain and was surrounded by the Hawaii Loa Ridge, a mountain Dustin talked about wanting to climb.

Now some of you who know me realize I’m not what most people would call an “Outdoors person.” I like air conditioning, macbooks and Law & Order… in no particular order. All of these things stand directly in the way of going outside. The thought of surfing was intriguing, but as I started to realize in my prayer, I didn’t really want to surf, I just wanted to tell other people I could surf. I wanted to go out on a 10 foot board, get to my feet one time and then go to the beach, sip on a mai tai and call myself a surfer.

I was at a courageous moment. Do I do what I want or give God a chance to pound something into my skull? I decided it was time for a good pounding.

Next time, Up The Mountain.

Thursday, June 19th, Julie Carelton and I flew to California to lead the Redlands
D-week, a retreat NET puts on for high schoolers all over the country… well, at least Minnesota, Texas and California. On Friday we started training the staff, 40 men and women from around California and around the country who were on hand to help us out leading small groups, giving testimonies, and performing dramas. This meant Julie and I were basically the MC’s and cheerleaders for the week. I must say, we did a pretty good job of that.

Father Mike Krelovich was on hand to help us out for the week. Father Mike is a former tank driving Marine with a big Jeep and a shared passion for a good cigar. Let’s just say, he didn’t let anyone off the hook for the week when he gave his homilies or spoke to the men’s and women’s sessions. He was, for lack of a better word, great. When he speaks, you can’t help but listen.

My highlight for the week happened on Wednesday night. The evening’s focus is Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. We set up the Alter in the middle of the room and 200 people crowded around and waited for Him to be present. After a quick exhortation by Fr. Mike, we got a few praise and worship songs going to get things started.

I had the honor of processing in front of the Eucharist with a censer full of incense. After a procession of the Eucharist around all those assembled, we placed the Monstrance back on the Alter and knelt in worship. Fr. Mike then took the Luna (what holds the Eucharist in the Monstrance) out and handed it to me saying, “You’ve done a lot of work these past two years”. Then he took the incense from me, knelt down and began to flood the air around me with a cloud of sweet smoke. And I stood there, holding my Lord and Saviour in my hands while 200 people knelt around me worshipping Him. I could barely move. Everything slowed down to almost a standstill as I simply stared at the Christ in my hands. Afterward, I processed back to the Tabernacle, knelt down and placed the Eucharist back in the Tabernacle.

I reflected on this whole episode later that night and thought, “Why do I not have this same amazement every time I go to Communion? This Eucharist is the same Heavenly Body that I receive during Mass. I should feel this way each time I receive Him.” (For those readers who aren’t Catholic, sorry for the impromptu Theology session. Thanks for sticking with me)

Once Adoration was over, I was slap happy. Francis, the worship leader and I started going back and forth on a very “Barry Whitish” sounding song. I can’t explain it, something came over me. I can tell you, I was probably more entertained than anyone else in the room.
The next day, it was official. At 3:00, the closing Mass finished and I officially became a NET Alumni. What was my first order of business? Fr. Mike provided the Victory Cigar. I can’t think of a better way to cap off my time.

These past 3 years have been phenomenal. I am a different man than the boy who showed up to MN in August 2005. I am a better man and not because of anything I’ve done. I’m better because of the people who surrounded me, the faith that was cultivated and the grace God poured out on me.

What will I take from these 3 years the most? I learned how to pray. I learned how to humbly accept was He’s asking me to do and I’ve learned to trust.

What happens next? Well, after World Youth Day, we’ll all have to tune in and find out.

Thanks for listening…err reading… err thinking… oh, forget it. I’m on vacation.

I’m at the Northwest Club at LAX waiting for my flight out to Hawaii. Crazy I know! I have a lot to tell you all but not enough time to write it. My thought is, between my 5 hour flight today and my 10 hour flight to Sydney next week I can probably find some time to put a few thoughts down.

Highlights to look forward to:
I am now unemployed, my service with NET Ministries ended June 30th.

I have been to San Diego

The LA Bulgarian

Stranded

Plus Hawaii and Sydney updates

Pray for me. It’s going to be a long time sitting.

Peace

I graduated from Lincoln High in 1998, when gas was in the $1.25 range. Remember those days? Yeah, I didn’t either. Proof of that was evident as I walked into Cafe Cabernet on Friday night for the first unofficial “event”. It was the cocktail hour mixer to where everyone stood around, sizing up the event and trying to decide who to talk to first. I stood there, clutching my Guinness trying to decide who these people were. I tried to explain to Erica that I spent most of high school hanging out with people who were older and my Senior year I finally started getting to know my fellow classmates.

As faces started to become a little more familiar, I was able to strike up a few conversations with people who I had not thought about in years. Everyone seemed to be doing well and nobody was currently incarcerated. Of course, if they were incarcerated, I guess they wouldn’t be making it to the reunion. Usually, there is not work-release program for this kind of event. But I digress.

Erica and I headed off to dinner and then met up for a drink with Jordan, one of my best friends from high school, college and the present.

The next day was the tour of Lincoln… which we pretty much slept through. We did make it up as the festivities were closing down. I couldn’t believe how much had changed. The parent drop off area was now the new cafeteria and the old bus ramp was now a well manicured courtyard with a statute of a Trojan soldier as the centerpiece. Most of the rest of the school still looked like a prison.

That night we headed to the University Club at FSU for the main event. Dinner, expensive drinks, dancing and small talk. I mentioned before the “What are you doing?” question. Whoever I talked to, that was the first question. I decided to test out if people were listening or if they were just being polite so they could tell me what they were doing. Throughout the night I was a Civil Engineer, Tour Manager for Maroon 5, Professional Harpist, and creator of the iPhone. Most of the time I was greeted with that look your dog gives you when you talk to him. In the end, being a Catholic missionary was just as shocking for most people as any of the the other careers I invented.

There was also a slideshow. A terrifying terrifying slideshow. I saw pictures of myself from when I looked like an emaciated refugee. Seeing those pictures, I am suddenly grateful for the impact that alcohol and steak have had on my life. I can’t imagine the stares I would get if I were that skinny today.

All in all it was a good weekend filled with reconnecting with friends, “Remember when” moments and a nice piece of baked chicken.

The adventures begin this week friends! Goodbye Minnesota party on Wednesday and California on Thursday! Talk to you then!

Fr. John Anthony was able to give me a lift the airport in San Pedro Sula as a couple of CFR Brothers are do in today. Luckily for me, there will be no repeat of the “Bus nearly falling off the side of a cliff” incident. We had 2 hours to talk about everything from the Theology of the Body to the military genius of Robert E. Lee to why Obama should watch his back. Let’s just say, I really like this guy.

We arrived at the airport safely and now I wait for my my flight to Tallahassee as I shift gears for Ed Hill’s Wedding.

This has been an amazing week. I’ve learned a lot about myself and about what the world really looks like.

I think every American should have to do some sort of service after high school. As Americans we are convinced that the world we know is the only world that exists. Through these past 3 years I’ve come to find over and over again that there is more to this world than I thought the day before.

This week I’ve had my eyes opened again. The beauty in how simply the Missioners, the Friars and the people of Honduras live is amazing. The difference is, the Hondurans live simply because they have to, the Missioners and the Friars live simply because they have given everything to Christ.

My friends, I’ve tried my best to let you see what I have seen but I guarantee that you won’t understand unless you see for yourself. No matter where you are in life, I encourage you to take some time to go and serve. Our time is not our own and we must use it to serve each other the best we can.

Christ is waiting for you. What is your response. Will you serve?

I’ll see you in the fields.

Today we begun the day with Mass at the Poor Clares and then things got different.

Erica had scheduled a trip into Tegucigalpa with the group of Mothers that she ministers to. So Br. Matteo, Br. Damiano, Br. Justin and I joined 20 women and a few children on a 2 hour bus ride. It was wonderful. These women, though very poor and most of them either in horrible relationships or single moms, were singing and laughing and smiling the whole way there.

Our first stop was Cristo Paccu, a gigantic statue of Jesus that towers over the city. It’s similar to the statue that towers over Sao Paulo, Brazil. You can see this thing poking above the mountains for miles around. My favorite part? about 200 feet below it, the only other thing visible on the mountain is a “Hollywood sign” only instead of Hollywood it says Coca Cola. Beautiful.

We walked around the statue for a while and then I was honored to give my testimony to these women. It is hard to find the words to relate to these women who lead such hard lives compared to what I deal with. But there are things that run true in both cultures. People drink too much, Men treat women like objects to be enjoyed then put on a shelf and women get pregnant and men skip out rather than take responsibility.

Unfortunately I used to treat women about as well as some of the men in Honduras. I’ve never hit a woman, I’ve never slept with any of them so I’m pretty sure none of them got pregnant, but I used them. I took, I lusted and I tried to fill the emptiness in my own heart with something that I thought I could get from them.

Luckily for me, I found what I was looking for in my relationship with Christ. I realized the truth, that God loved me no matter how good or bad I was. He would always love me the same, unconditionally. Through that truth, I was able to get rid of the thought of taking and begin the search for the person I could give myself to. The person I could see Christ in and feels Christ’s love through. That person, to the best of my knowledge is Erica.

Sharing all that with these women was hard and I wasn’t sure if I was even making sense to them. Don’t worry, I had one of the Brothers interpret everything I said. But afterwards, I talked to some of them who said it really spoke to them. I’m telling you, each day God is shifting the ground under me.

After that we took them all to the Zoo. For almost all the women and the children, it was their first time at a zoo. This is not your typical Americanized Zoo where the animals are all safe distances away tucked behind concrete and plexiglass. This was a Honduran zoo where Crocodiles and Jaguars are kept behind chain linked fence at distances up to 2 feet. Sometimes even closer.

As we were at the Monkey cage, we noticed all the monkey’s jumping and moving about and then suddenly, 5 feet from Erica, one landed on the sidewalk. That’s right friends, the monkey’s were loose from their cage. It was the most surreal thing. We’re in a zoo, and the fences aren’t working anymore! There are animals among us! We followed him around, trying to get good pictures, but he was on a mission and kept moving. We decided to go to the Jaguar cage next where it was, conveniently, feeding time. The zookeeper, or more likely, groundskeeper that drew the short straw, laid a bucket full of meat on a raised platform. Behind him, in a cage that looked anything but secure, a Jaguar paced VERY anxiously, ready to be fed. The zookeeper left, the door was locked, the cage door opened and he pounced. He tore threw dinner in a few brief moments. Hoping that the Jaguar and the Monkey hadn’t been talking earlier in the day, we headed off.

The other main attraction was the crocodile. You know how most zoos tell you not to feed the animals or mess with their cages? Well apparently that memo did not get circulated down here. Have you ever seen a Crocodile messed with? They get mad. Real mad. And they hiss. Especially when members of certain religious orders decided to try and poke it with a stick. Oh did I mention the secure cage was a dilapidated chain link fence? Well that happened. I have photos to prove it. Now I’ve grown up with Alligators in Florida and they are scary. Crocodiles make Alligators look like Geckos. They are sleek, fast, teethy and they have devil eyes. Needless to say, I made my exit from that exhibit about as fast a Gringo exits to the bathroom after drinking the water down here.

Next stop was the Bascillica of the image of Supayappa. Supayappa is the Patroness of Honduras. Apparently this man was in a field a few hundred years ago. He looks down and sees a doll, thinks it’s kind of strange, throws it over his shoulder and then walks on through the field. He slept in the field that night and when he woke up, the doll was next to him. Again, he thinks, that’s weird and throws it over his shoulder. The next morning he wakes up, and there is the doll again. It was brought to the Cathedral and many people were healed. People have been venerating it ever since.

I don’t know the full story but people down here LOVE Suyappa. I’ve met about 10 different women with that name. Muy interesante.

We went into the new Bascillica as well which is beautiful! It’s huge with gorgeous stained glass windows. Again, pictures people. I’ve got the pictures.

Finally we took the two hour bus ride home. When we got back to Comayagua it was raining a little bit. We dropped some of the women off near where their homes were. One of the women, Daisy, had brought her infant girl and toddler son with her. Her son was one of the cutest little boys and he gave me a good taste of what I’ve been missing at home. He hit me. Constantly. But we had fun. He and I had played all day, tickle fights and carrying him on my shoulders.

When he got off the bus, he was crying. He kept saying NO! Over and over again he cried and finally he walked away with his head down crying and walking home behind his Mom. I know he was crying because it was a long day and he was tired and cranky. But all I could think about was him realizing that it was over. This amazing day where he got to see so many great things and had so many fun people to play with, and now he had to go back to his one room house. It absolutely broke my heart. That was nearly 5 hours ago and I can’t stop thinking about it.

I guess not every day here ends in victory. Sometimes it just hurts to watch the truth.

Tomorrow morning is my last morning here so I’ll give you the final recap tomorrow.

Buenos Noches

We started this morning with Mass at the Friars house. After that we headed back for breakfast and then to the Casa de Lupe to begin Orientation for the Summer Missionaries. Erica and I lead a few icebreakers before she and I headed off with Segraria for more visits.

One family we visited with had a grove of Mango trees. They knocked a few off and gave us a bag full of them. The poverty is starting to get to me. I can’t believe how much I complain about not having enough “stuff”. These people don’t have anything, and yet they share. Those Mangoes could have probably been sold or used to feed family. But instead, this mother, who’s husband is abusive to her and her children, who is emotionally and psychologically controlled, stopped to sit with me, a complete stranger, and share the little she had. She is the living Gospel.

After lunch, Erica and I went on more visits and saw more and more strange things. Goats, chickens, wild boars in the street. Everyone else just keeps walking and here I am, this crazy gringo taking pictures.

We went back to the Casa de Lupe where Erica was giving a talk to the summer missionaries about the importance of Community. In the middle of it, Carol, who is in charge of the Missioners stepped in the room and asked if I could come with her. Here’s where my life took a violent shove into humility.

There is a boy. He is 13 years old and lives in a neighborhood not too far away. His mother has died. His father has died. All that is left is his 17 year old sister. She takes care of him because he is completely paralyzed and severely mentally handicapped. He never leaves his bed.

The boy’s other family has written him off and treats him like he’s not there. They hit him and one of them has threatened to kill him, to get rid of the hassle. But his sister stays and takes care of him. Everyday.

The Friars have offered them a place to stay for a little while as they wait to hear from a home for disabled children in Tegucigalpa who might be able to take him in. So I was sent with two other Hondurans to pick up him and his sister and there belongings. We were at his house in just a couple of minutes and I quickly realized I was the only person who didn’t speak Spanish. The apartment building was a row of small rooms with an open air corridor down the middle. Their apartment was at the very end and had just two beds and a box.

When we arrived, the boy was on the floor and his sister was putting socks on his feet. We asked how to move him and the woman motioned for us to carry him like a baby. So Wilmer and I, not being able to communicate very well, just enough to lift at the same time, carried this boy out of the only room he’s ever known. I watched his eyes light up and dance as he saw the outdoors for the first time in a long time.

We got him into the truck and then loaded his bed, a box of belongings, and a few bags of clothes. We drove him and his sister back to a group home near the Friar’s house. Wilmer and I carried his bed inside and got it set up and then I went back to the truck, and taking him in my arms, carried him into the room and laid him on his bed. The thing that got me was he never stopped smiling. In the car, as we’d go over bumps in the road he would laugh and laugh.

And all I could think about was all the times I complained and whined about not getting my way. I don’t think I’ll be able to look at myself the same.

After filling up a Water Cooler jug of water for them we went back and got ready for Holy Hour and dinner.

Holy Hour was beautiful as I had plenty of time to read and reflect and think about what a rollercoaster I had been through that day.

Then came dinner.

Carol had arranged for several couples, some engaged, some just beginning to date, and some who had been dating for a while to be at the dinner to talk about the Sacrament of Marriage. And once again, I’m the only one who doesn’t speak Spanish.

I shared a little about my relationship with Erica and why I think it will last. I will only say this. I know Erica loves me with all she has because I know I will never be her everything. I will never be the most important man in her life. Christ will always be the center and through Christ, we are able to share love that exceeds the sum total of the two of us put together. Our love for each other is a love of Christ IN each other. Because of that, we can truly love without taking. We can give of ourselves completely and never be empty.

That’s just another day in Paradise.

This morning, Erica and I went to Mass with the Missionaries of Charity, Blessed (Mother) Theresa’s order. There are 6 of them here in Comayagua who run a home for the elderly and children with AIDS. Something struck me about them. They run a very difficult and heart-breaking ministry and yet they were filled with such joy and hope.

Apparently the priest who was saying Mass was leaving and would not be back. So they got him a present and sang a song to him after Mass. I don’t know why I found that so profound but here these women are, most of them thousands of miles from anything familiar, running a hospital for those with terminal illnesses and yet they stood in their kitchen laughing and smiling with such joy. Erica and I both really love the order and hope to work with them in the future.

After Mass we walked back to the Missioners’ House where we ran into the funeral procession of the baby who had died the day before. The family carried the tiny coffin through the streets and then they all left to go bury the baby where the rest of the family is buried. After they passed by, we went to the house and had breakfast then went off to Casa de Lupe to meet with Segrario, the Social Worker that Erica works with. She gave us a list of mothers around the village who we were to go and visit with that morning.

I have never seen such poverty. Huts made out of clay, six or seven people under the roof of a one room shack, chickens and hens and dogs and cats running through the house. Young girls, not yet 16 with 2 or 3 children. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen, yet it was pretty normal for here.

We visited a majority of the mothers on our list and ran into a few extra visitors on the way. Mainly cows, bulls, a few horses, a donkey, just roaming through the roads here. Erica said you never know what’s going to be outside your door when you walk out in the morning, and now I believe her.

After lunch, we went back to Casa de Lupe to meet with the Social Worker again but when we got there a woman was already with her. Brother Damiano then came with the truck and without an explanation, Erica and I climbed in the truck with Him, the woman and Segrario. Along the way, Erica explained that we were driving to an orphanage and the car in front of us was full of the woman’s 5 children. She could not take care of them or herself anymore do to an abusive relationship and the pure poverty she was living in.

Needless to say, the kids went crazy when they walked into the Orphanage. Brother Damiano and I stayed in the truck and he explained that this is really the best place for them as they will be in school, be catechized and have a chance for formation. If they stayed with the mother, they wouldn’t stand a chance. Also, the mother would be able to try and get back on her feet now. Of course, that doesn’t take away the pain of hearing all the children screaming for their mother when she had to just walk away. You can understand that in any language.

When we got back to the Casa, we spent a couple of hours trying to console her and pray for her. Finally, when things had calmed down, Erica and I went back to the Missioner’s house where we had holy hour and dinner.

I played guitar for Holy Hour while Erica sang, Wilmer, one of the Hondurans played Bass and Chloe, a Missioner from Whales played keyboard. We played several English Praise and Worship songs that had been translated to Spanish.

Afterwards we headed into dinner and for the next 2 hours, Diana one of the Hondurans and I had a psuedo conversation in broken English and Spanish. She has been studying English and I have been trying to learn Spanish so we tried to talk for the next few couple of hours. We were actually able to communicate pretty well and would have continued had it not been so late!

New blood arrived today. Some volunteers who are here for the summer just arrived so I had a chance to meet them briefly before bed. One is from New Jersey and knows Ralph Scarfone, a NET Alum and friend of mine in Minnesota.

It’s a small strange Catholic World.

I woke up this morning at 5AM and headed to the girls house for morning prayer. The chapel, like almost everything here, is open air. It gets so hot in the summer time that everything is left open so the breeze from the mountains can come through and cool things off.

After morning prayer we went with some of the CFR’s to the Convent of the Poor Clares. The Poor Clares are a cloistered sisterhood, meaning they do not leave the walls of their convent unless they have to. Even during Mass, they sat off to one section of the chapel which was closed off from us by a gate. It was so beautiful to think that these women devote their entire lives to simply praying for all of us. If you’re ever having a bad day and things miraculously turn around… thank the Poor Clares!

After Mass we got the news that one of the local woman who helps out at Casa de Lupe had lost her nine day old baby in the night. The baby had stopped crying in the middle of the night and after rushing her to the hospital, the baby passed away. This added one more thing to an already full plate for the missioners.

After hearing the news, Erica and I didn’t have much time to waste. We had to eat breakfast quickly then head back to Casa de Lupe to help with another project that I volunteered myself for the night before.

The CFR’s give away food to the poor once a month and during that time, they spend some time evangelizing and doing teachings. While they did that, Erica and I entertained 40 children. From age 3-10, we did a quick teaching on Family and how even if you don’t have a real mom or a real dad, Jesus and Mary want to be your Spiritual Mom and Dad. After we did a little art project, we sent them back out to their parents and mass chaos ensued.

Brother Antonio, one of the Friars, asked if I wanted to play basketball around 11:30 with some of the other Friars. So I went and put on my pair of sneakers and met these wonderful men, who usually where grey canvas habits, for a quick few games of hoops. No they didn’t where their standard grey, but shorts, t-shirts and footlong beards still look kind of funny.

After basketball I was wiped out and after some lunch, a few quick things to get finished, I headed to the nearest hammock for an afternoon siesta.

I woke up and Erica and I cooked dinner for the rest of the Missioners. We dined on a lovely combination of salad (which I personally bleached. Don’t worry, it’s not as scary as it sounds. The lettuce here contains some bacteria so you wash it in water with a few drops of bleach to kill the bacteria) Chicken, rice, vegetables an Spinach Artichoke Dip. The Spinach dip is surprisingly rare in this little village. Who knew.

After dinner, we walked down to the house where the woman who lost her baby lived.

We walked in and the baby was there, all in white, laying in a tiny coffin with a crown of stars around her head. It was both beautiful and terribly sad. We visited with the family for a few minutes and then headed home.

So after another long day, I’m off to bed.

More tomorrow!