So, you've come to the country (refer to The Campo - Part I from 10/22/09 if you need to catch up on this journey). What might one expect visiting a home there? We usually begin at Heraldo's house. He hops out while we idle in the pot-hole-puddle laden dirt road, just after tooting the horn as we pass by his father-in-law's house next door...that is, down the road. We pull in across the grass, the simple church building to the left, the house just ahead, and park. Next, a bit of unloading, some deep breaths and comments on the weather and the land. Eugenio chops some wood and before you know it, smoke begins to rise from the house. Perhaps we'll have some food and drink, a round or two of mate, perhaps a few chores, but sooner and later we petition the Lord to cover us in grace and love and we head out to visit.
Allooooooo!
This call often begins a visit to a country home. After pulling up, one must announce his presence (alloooo!) and wait at a distance (perhaps at a gate or fence). In a moment, a figure emerges from inside, or perhaps rounds the corner from the back of the little house. If expected, a few 'howdy do's' and kisses cheek to cheek (men to women or women to women) will precede the invitation to come in and sit down. 'Permiso' we say as we pass through the doorway. Our feet shuffle as we move from the packed mud to the grayed wood plank floor and our eyes readjust to the darkness illumined by the sharp squares of light coming in at an angle from the windows in the room. Conversation starts up like an old car, slow but sure.
How's your family? Everyone's been well? Your niece has been sick? Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Yes, we've been well, thank you. The weather sure has been strange. So much rain. Have you planted everything yet? Potatoes? Wheat? Corn? And the animals, any problems? Somebody's dogs got to the sheep. Sold a cow. Plan to buy a pig.
This conversation might take place as the lady of the house bustles a bit, participating in the conversation, all the while stoking the fire in the wood burning stove, moving this pot here, that kettle there, breaking a few more sticks and pushing them into the coals and closing the little door. Soon we are told to pull up to the table and a basket of bread is placed before us. Perhaps a single fried egg on a saucer will be set before us, one person at a time. Salt on a saucer too, a pinch of the fingers or two will do. We use the bread to soak up the rich country egg, recently slipped from the hen house. Soon the hot water is ready and the mate begins. One person serves. A little cup has been prepared, filled with the bitter tea, the metal straw/strainer protruding from the rim at a forty-five degree angle. Filled with hot water, sweetened by a scoop of sugar, it is ready to be quickly sipped down, passed back to the server and made ready for the next person. The cup makes its way around the circle as conversation continues to meander along from this subject to that. A glance around the room reveals the simplicity of the country life. One stand alone cabinet. The home made cushions for the wood table and mismatched chairs. The vinyl patterned table cloth. The one light bulb and the solitary wire running across the ceiling and down the wall. It will only burn when really necessary. We will all lean into the failing light through the windows, tilting our Bibles just so in order to share a brief scripture. Eventually we'll ask if we can pray before leaving. The warm goodbyes begin as everyone rises, the cheek to cheek kisses, handshakes and pats on the shoulders take place.
Be well. God bless you. See you next time. Blessings. Chao!
Each visit brings its own adventures, variances, blessings and challenges. And we've experienced some interesting days...and nights.
There was one Sunday my whole family came to worship with Heraldo's family. That visit began with burying a still born calf and watching...or should I say listening...to the mother eat the after birth.
There was the evening conversation in the book of Acts abruptly interrupted when the door burst open under the power of a large pig. The owner quickly hopped up as he calmly exclaimed, 'chancho!' (pig). That same night we drove around in the rain chasing cows we thought we'd let out by accident, only to find out they were the neighbors cows.
We've enjoyed bringing home gifts of fresh eggs. Addi did not enjoy the fact she couldn't bring home that cute little mongrel of a puppy! Tears were shed. And that was just after the quiet inside conversation was interrupted by a local 5 year old racing across the farmyard with Boden in a wheel barrow! (Mark down your prayer request here).
We've enjoyed the walks to the pond, learning about various plants and their uses. This one for an upset stomach. Rub that one on a wound. Try this one. Don't eat that one!
We've found out that mending fences is a good time to share about life's woes and joys and build more than a fence.
One Sunday Jessica's mother instinct asked her where Boden was. She left the building, went across the lawn, into the empty house, and there found Boden: egg in one hand...hammer in the other! The next week as I shared from up front, I could see our kids out the opaque window wading in a mud puddle as wide as the gravel road. Extra clothes in the country are a good thing!
And so it goes. Much of our ministry is in the country. So, we are learning country ways, doing country things, and praying for souls from the Chilean countryside to join the choir of voices and languages that will be praising their King and Savior, Jesus!
Amen.
