Do you ever grow weary of the way things don't work? (Bad poetry in an Argentine public hospital)

Do you ever grow weary of the way things don't work?
(4 hours in the ER, and no sign of being seen
"Welcome to Argentine hospitals"
Roll the eyes of my fellow waiters)

Or don't work how you expect them to?
("But really!" the Peruvian, Brazilian, Chinese and I insist,
"Back home the hospitals are clean and efficient!"
And the brown and gray and blue Argentine eyes stare back at us as if we were aliens
...Wait...we are aliens...
Because we've lived a different reality
And they can't believe us)

Do you ever grow weary of the way things don't work?
Of the foot that keeps swelling?
Of the right words that won't come out of a left brain?
Of the room that stays dark because the light burned out

And no one bothered to replace it?

But if the lights only worked

Not big fluorescent lights

But pinhole rays of tiny brilliance

Evidence of a reality we've caught a glimpse of

("What if we brought a guitar to the ER?" we muse 

And in the meantime we play hangman

And listen, and talk, and joke

But mostly smile)

Shining

Because even when things don't work

There's no sense in growing weary

Meet...my roommate!

Those of you who talked and prayed with me before I left for Argentina know that having a good roommate was high on my anxiety/priority list. Moving to a new country and 24/7 community can be tricky, and even trickier if the person you spend a good portion of those 24/7 isn’t, well, awesome.

Fortunately, Lusila Daher is pretty awesome. Here’s why!

So awesome, she even has a beard!

1. She has a cool accent. Lusi is from Cordoba, which is inner-Argentina/cattle country/think thick country dialect. It kiiiind of sounds liiiiike this when sheeee talks, chango (dude)! Plus, she’s learning English, so…it’s just even more awesome.

2. She gives and receives back massages. This is important.

Yes, she is standing on the chair

3. She is short. Therefore, although we share the room, we occupy very different spaces in it. Let’s just say I’ve got friends in low places. However, our shirts and scarves fit each other! Shoes and pants…not so much.

4. She’s missions-minded. And also a bit of a hippie. Her ideal church would involve gypsies, if that gives you any better idea of what she’s about. 

5. She’s artistic. Lusi studies graphic design, and can find beauty in just about anything

6. She listens well. Even when I’m talking in English and she likely has no clue of what 75% of what I’m saying means, she knows how to nod in all the right places. Although I’m convinced that she can read my mind anyways (vanilla!).

Most of our photos together involve us being
really excited about food. The birthday waffles!

7. She is a good friend. From making “waffles” for my birthday breakfast (and finding peanut butter to go with them!) and going with me to do paperwork at 6 in the morning, to having good heart-to-heart/bunk-to-bunk talks and rubbing mosquito repellent onto my very ugly feet, I am incredibly blessed to have Lusi as a compañera de pieza (roommate), hermana (sister), and amiga (you know what that word means- psych!)

Full circle (trippy)

Two years ago today, I was three buildings and four floors away from where I am right now, listening to the same traffic noises and contemplating a similar snatch of dog poo residue on my shoe, typing something on this same computer. Trippy.

I had come with a study trip group from Lee University as a TA and interpreter. A free trip for me, but I think I earned my keep. We’d spent my birthday week in Chile, and had driven across the Andes and the width of Argentina to get here, conjugating verbs and trying not to lose students en route (codename: where’s Kelsy?).

Buenos Aires didn’t impress me. It was (and is) gray and gritty, agitated and agrandado, confusing and chaotic. It never fails to surprise me. We held our classes in the seminary, and with as many times as we rang the bell, must’ve put whoever was on guardia (door duty) that week through…a lot. And yet, every time I walked through the front door, I was greeted with a kiss on the cheek, a smile, and a ‘buen dia!’ The students then have graduated now, but the community is similar: learn, live, love, and lead together. (and che, if there’s a birthday, get soaked and break a window).

I was invited to return to study and teach here, and kept it in the back of my mind as I pondered/prayed through post-graduation possibilities. Delayed paperwork, a bit of heartache, and the gift of God’s peace later, I came back.

Two years ago tomorrow, I was walking down the cobblestones of Colonia, Uruguay taking a tour. Four days ago I was walking down those same cobblestones, renewing my visa, when a girl from a Lee study trip group called my name. They came to Buenos Aires tonight, and will go to church with me tomorrow morning.

It’s trippy trip moments like these that make me remember two years ago today, and wonder about two years from now. Full circle. 

 2012 Colonia, Uruguay with a Lee group

2014 Colonia, Uruguay with a Lee group

2012 seminary students in Palermo

2014 seminary students in Palermo

The seminary...2012? 2014? ?

Speak life (here's what the Bible sounds like to me)

I realized the other day that I like hearing other people read Scripture and pray aloud; I always get a new perspective hearing God's voice through their experience. My Bible is full of annotations of who shared what and when with me, and I thought it'd be cool to share with you how a portion of Scripture sounds like to me, in my voice.

This passage was particularly relevant to me today, and so...here goes! It's not a translation, but I did use some Greek geek power to try out some different words on for size.



You've heard the rumor: 'love your friends, hate your enemies'.

But I tell you: love your enemies.

Speak life to (and about) those who destroy with their words.
Do good to those who hate you.
Pray for people who disrespect and take advantage of you.

Be children of our Father in heaven.
He sends sunshine and makes rain fall on the innocent and the guilty.
Because, if you only love those who love you, what's the point?
If you only talk to people you get along with anyways, what's the difference? Even politicians do that!

Be complete (mature, perfect, being exactly who you were purposed to be), just as God is.

-Matthew 5:43-45

El mejor cumple!

Ponganse envidiosos todos, porque acabo de tener, sin duda, el mejor cumpleaños de todos. Les digo por que, y les doy las razones por las cuales deben celebrar aca en Sebima (seminario, BsAs).

Reason #1 Sorpresas que no son sorpresas.
Cuando apagan las luces en el comedor, sabes que eso solo puede significar que vienen con la torta. Y cuando te piden que salgas del comedor, bajo cualquier pretenso, aun si no hayas terminado con tu torta, preparate a mojarte.

Reason #2 Sorpresas que si son sorpresas
Por ejemplo, que te lleguen flores (por medio de la compañera de pieza) o que te sirvan panqueques (con MANTEQUILLA DE MANI) con un desayuno a lo norteamericano. O que te despiertes con el sonido de la lluvia.

Reason #3 Asado.
Más las casi treinta personas que comieron juntos conmigo. Panza y corazón...tan llenos. 

Reason #4 La torta más grande que he visto fuera de la tele
Que sirve también para el desayuno. Daniel y Luci SON los maestros de la torta.

Razon #5 Abrazos/besitos/deseos/oraciones/canciones durante el dia.
Que 'happy birthday' con acento argentino suena re copado!

Reason #6 El mejor regalo
Que si me conocen como ellos, el mejor regalo para mi son las palabras. No sólo recibi unos chocolates y un libro, sino también tantos mensajes y recados de tantas personas. Estoy tan agradecida y bendecida (y mimada).

Why you should celebrate your birthday here

Be jealous, y'all, because I just had what may be, empirically speaking, the best birthday ever.* Here's why, and why you too should celebrate your coming of age at Sebima (seminary, Buenos Aires).

Razon #1 Surprises that aren't really surprises.
When they turn out the lights in the dining hall, you know that can only mean that a cake is coming. And when they call you out of the dining hall, under whatever pretext, even if you haven't finished your cake, be prepared to get soaked.

Razon #2 Surprises that are legitimately surprises.
Like having flowers show up via my roommate, or having pancakes (complete with PEANUT BUTTER) with a complete American-style breakfast. Or hearing rain on the roof in the morning.

Razon #3 Asado.
Plus the nearly thirty people in the dining room who ate together with me. Stomach and heart...so full.

Razon #4 The biggest cake I have ever seen outside of TV.
Which makes for delicious breakfast leftovers. Daniel and Luci ARE the cake bosses.

Razon #5 Random hugs/kisses/birthday wishes/prayers/songs throughout the day.
Plus 'happy birthday' in an Argentine accent just sounds cool. 

Razon #6 The best kind of gift
Which, if you know me like these guys do, is words. In addition to chocolate and a book, I got so many kind notes from so many people. I am indeed ridiculously blessed and spoiled.


*Just add _____________ (your name here). I missed you, and you would've enjoyed the celebration!

Purgatory goes Postal

...or, please don't send me packages.

I love getting letters. They may arrive a month late, but they usually do arrive. They slide under the front gate and fill my life with so much joy (and occasionally tears. I really really love getting them).

Packages...not so much. Getting a package means going to the customs office on the other end of town, where everyone takes a number and no one honors it (sometimes being 6 feet tall helps me push my way forward...sometimes not), and then waiting for hours in a room that, like all waiting rooms, reminds me of Dante's purgatory. Then, in the fullness of time, I get to go forward, pay a bunch of unexplained fees, and (cue the Mario music) get the package. This process has been 33% effective so far. More often than not, though, the package mysteriously 'never arrives'. At the moment, since April 26th, my computer charger is in a black hole (purgatory?) between LA and Argentina, and I'm wondering how to apply the medieval logic of 'when a coin in the coffer rings, a soul from purgatory springs' to the postal system. Hmm...

But, in the meantime, as I said, I do very much enjoy receiving letters (percentage success rate: somewhere in the mid 90's)! Thank you Jessamine, Debbie, Grandma RoseAnne, Teresa, Kelsy, Mom, Dad, Grandma Carol and Grandpa Eldon, and Andrew for your letters! If I could, I would snail mail one right back!

And thank you for your prayers for my charger- it's one of those little conveniences that are really, really convenient!