I’ve been having a hard time putting my final thoughts and words in place in regards to our Ecuador trip. I think that is normal for me… the non-finisher. But I also sense that it is good to work through thoughts and figure out a “so what?!” kind of idea about significant experiences. So this will be my attempt to figure out “so what”…

sigh. and still I don’t know where to start.

Sitting in church on Sunday morning this whole post crafted itself before my eyes, and then as soon as I stood to leave, it seemed to leave me as well. I had an internal battle during the last song, whether to sit down and write notes to myself, or stand and worship. Worship won out so I assume that was right and the necessary thoughts will slowly filter back in. Or not. Wouldn’t be anything new!

I’ve worked for well over an hour, writing and deleting, writing and deleting. There is so much I could say on the work of Compassion, the cycle of poverty, the effects of poverty on children, what it means to release a child from poverty… each of those thoughts could easily become an essay. (or a rant, I heard I’m good at those!) I can’t quite seem to get my words and thoughts in order, it’s getting late and I am abandoning hope of it happening. I guess instead I will just post the words (some of which we sang on Sunday) that seemed to so perfectly answer the questions that surfaced during my week in Ecuador…

O soul, are you weary and troubled?
No light in the darkness you see?
There’s light for a look at the Savior,
And life more abundant and free!

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.

Through death into life everlasting
He passed, and we follow Him there;
O’er us sin no more hath dominion—
For more than conqu’rors we are!

His Word shall not fail you—He promised;
Believe Him, and all will be well:
Then go to a world that is dying,
His perfect salvation to tell!

Christ in me – the hope of glory!

This post will be a day late (day 4 was 2 days late!), but I want to try to get it down before we leave. I already forget so much about yesterday! Hopefully Jon will do better blogging about it than I will! He usually does…

Yesterday we woke up in beautiful Otovalo, the birds singing over the lake… everything so lush and green. Before breakfast we walked around a little and took a few pictures. At breakfast each table was joined by a Leadership Development Student and a translator. We were blessed to spend the morning with a young man named Pablo, who is in university studying tourism. He was a remarkable guy, and shared his testimony with us. His local church and in particular his youth pastor played a HUGE role in his life, becoming his mentor and so close that he considers him his father figure (his father is absent). He seemed to be a godly young man with a passion for the Lord and the children of his community. He goes to school monday to friday and volunteers at his church project on the weekends.

We loaded up on the bus and headed to the world famous Otovalo markets, just wanted to support the local economy you know… We found a few small things for our kids, and an alpaca blanket (because I heard they are awesome… and yes, Dean got one for you Marg!). Jon wanted a machete (of course), but we couldn’t find any.

After Otovalo we began a long drive into the mountains to visit a Child Survival Project that one of the pastor’s on the trip was supporting (his church). A Child Survival Project is like a pre-sponsorship program that works with expectant mothers and mothers with little ones up to age 4. This church has 40 mother-child units that they are currently serving.

To get up to this project our bus had to do some serious work. There were a few moments where the mud and rocks were kind of slipping away down the cliff side as we made our climb. More than one pastor’s wife was leaning hard in the opposite direction, and whispering some prayers I bet as well. The view was incredible!! But finally, the bus had reached as far as it could go without some locals helping put stones and some wood under the tires to help it get enough traction to continue up. So we all piled out and walked the rest of the way to the project. Wow. I hope the pictures from yesterday turn out because we were really in an indigenous community yesterday! The church was kind of perched on the side of the mountain, and the mothers and babies had gathered again in lines for us to greet them as we came towards the church. Even though it looked like a similar welcome from what we had received before, it actually felt very different. The mothers were so shy, it was hard to interact with them. They were very sweet, with their babies strapped to their backs and their beautiful colourful clothing… but so so so shy. Andrea, our guide, explained that especially in the highlands self esteem and self worth in women is very low. They view themselves as just a tool of their husbands, there to make babies and keep the house. One of the project aims is to encourage the women, teach them how precious they are in God’s eyes and help them learn skills that can allow them to be more productive.

When we arrived in the church we were able to learn all about the program and hear from the promoters (women who visit and train the mothers) about their work. Their project has 2 promoters, both young women in their early twenties. They are volunteers (who work full time) visiting and training mothers. Each is responsible for 20 mothers, and are expected to visit 3 mothers a day for 3 weeks of the month. On the 4th week they write reports to track everything and work on curriculum for the next month. The program also provides resources for prenatal and postnatal checkups and medical care, and allows the women access to the hospital for birthing. (I’m a fan of home births, but from seeing the homes and understanding the lack of knowledge here, I can see why birthing in a hospital is the wisest and best choice in this area.)

When visiting the mothers, the promoters here often first have to teach them to read and write! About 90% of the mothers in the project there had not finished grade 3. They were almost entirely uneducated, and in order to be able to follow curriculum work later, they have to learn to read first. When the infants arrive, the promoters teach the women how to stimulate their children, infant massage, and all kinds of activities and health information that will benefit the children. Honestly… I can tell you first hand that this is necessary. One of the most startling and distressing things for me on this trip was walking by the row of women and babies as they welcomed us and looking into the eyes of the young children. I have never seen eyes so dull and unresponsive. The CSP program has only been around for 8 months in this area, so the majority of children we were seeing had not benefitted from the program. I think we assume that perhaps healthy mothering comes naturally… but without good nutrition and even basic understanding of what babies need by way of stimulation, irreparable damage is done. However, the infant of the home we visited that was 11 months old (and whose mother had been working with him for 8 months), his eyes were bright and alert, he was able to play peek-a-boo, reach for objects beyond his grasp, interact and smile at his parents prompting. Those may all sound normal, but I assure you that even these simple abilities only came through training in this community. It was startling and even a little devastating to be honest. It was easy to see why the Child Survival Program is so necessary here, because by 4 when a child is able to enter the Compassion sponsorship program, he could already be severely limited for life by poor nutrition and lack of stimulation.

At one point we split into groups and our group piled into the back of a pick up (it had high sides, so we all stood and held on to the rails for dear life!) and began a bumpy trip up a mountain side. We wound around and around and then when we got out we had to climb down the side of the mountainside on a narrow path through farm plots down to a little cinderblock home perched right on the side of the mountain. Inside were 3 little rooms (no running water or electricity), with a dirt floor. Here lived a little family… mother and father (20 and 21) with their dear little 11 month old son. The mother was very shy, and the baby was overwhelmed by all the people (probably 17 of us in total), crowded in her tiny home. The promoter helped her to show us a few of the activities they are working on with the baby and how she performs infant massage. The baby was scared with all of us around, so when he cried the mother began to nurse. In their culture there is no shame in being exposed while nursing, but obviously in ours it is a little more awkward. Of course no one was offended, but probably uncomfortable, and slowly the team began to file out of the home. I think they meant it for the mother and baby’s sake, but our guide became very stressed because everyone leaving would be insulting and embarrassing for the mother. There were a few tense moments, but we managed to get most people back in the house and we’re able to finish our visit well. Eventually we headed outside and shared a snack (the weirdest and grossest corn I have ever eaten) with the family, and left quite a bit for the family for later. At that point the father arrived home and greeted us so warmly. He went right for his baby and scooped him up with a big smile. The little mother clung to the back of the father’s shirt, and I can’t even describe what a sweet image it was to watch them. Their love and closeness was startling in a culture that struggles with absentee fathers and domestic abuse. The father had such pride as he showed us the games and activities he does with his son that they learned through the project.

Finally it began to rain, so we tried to quickly make our way down the mountain. We walked down part way, and rode down in the pick up the rest of the way to the church. We said our goodbye’s and then found we had to ride in the back of the pickups again part way down the big mountain, past the most dangerous places until we could board the bus. Our truck went first, and when we stopped and were waiting for the bus it started raining more heavily. The pastor waved us over to little caves in the side of the mountain where we waited for the bus to come. It was a fun experience!

It took about 2 hours to reach our hotel back in Quito, where we enjoyed a late dinner at a fancy hotel restaurant. Jon and I were both pretty disappointed in the portion sizes. We aren’t really fancy restaurant people… I like normal food and hearty amounts of it!

We we FINALLY got to settle in our room for the evening, we discovered that our passports and Jon’s wallet was missing. We hadn’t seen them since the morning before, and Jon could not remember for the life of him exactly where he put them. We didn’t know if they were misplaced, lost, or stolen! Thus began several hours of searching, praying, googling the consulate in Ecuador to figure out what to do… when finally they were discovered in some random pocket of luggage. Praise God! It would have been a nightmare to lose them!

I blame the whole dilemma on Geoff Moore. He is a musician travelling with us (remember him?)

Last time I saw him he was performing that song, and I was probably 14!

On this trip though, his first words to me in the airport were… “DO you have kids?” At my nod he finished with, “well, your husband isn’t one of them. Stop mothering him”. !!!!!

I sort of pride myself on not being too much of a naggy wife, so I was kind of taken aback and actually spent some time considering his words. He was joking, but he was kind of right. When it comes to travelling I am rather anal about passports and tickets. So I decided for once to lay off and leaven my very responsible and capable, though occasionally absent minded husband in charge. And what I learned is that sometimes an organized wife is the best gift a husband can have! So perhaps a bit of caution next time, Mr. Moore, when handing out rebukes to strangers! lol

We had another amazing day today, but that will have to wait until I get home to blog about. We are off to dinner now, and we fly out around 1 in the morning!!

Happy valentines day!

We are staying in the highlands of Ecuador tonight, in Otovalo (world famous for their souvenirs). It is beautiful here… But no Internet in our room, so this will have to be posted tomorrow night when we are back in Quito. Everyone wants to room next to us because Jon can create his own wireless network in our room, most of the pastors only brought cellphones and the hotel wireless only works in the lobby. So nice to be married to a techie sometimes!

So this morning we drove 2 hours into the mountains to visit a project in an indigenous area ( there are 2 main people groups here, the indigenous (native) people and the mestizo (Spanish and Indigenous)). The lovely people we met today still wear a more traditional form of dress, and speak a different language. I know what it’s called but if I tried to spell it I would make the biggest fool out of myself!

We were once again welcomed by all the children as we entered the project, but we did notice that they seemed much more shy and reserved than the children we met yesterday in Quito. Most of the girls were wearing long dark skirts with fancy white blouses, with full sleeves and colorful waistbands. They wore lots of gold beads around their necks and had colorful ties wrapped around their ponytails. Just beautiful!! The boys wore their hair very long and in ponytails or braided. The men’s clothing reminded me of our own native people, and they had such a distinct air of this quiet dignity. Its hard to describe, but both Jon and I found their ways very admirable.

We had the incredible blessing to visit a family today whose children attend this project. They family we visited had 2 sons in the project and 8 children in total. Only the boys who were enrolled in the Compassion project, Daniel and Raoul, are able to attend school. The family cannot afford to send the others. Daniel is 15 and just about the sweetest boy ever, so shy that he had a hard time making eye contact, but so dedicated to his family and his school work. He wants to be a doctor and says his b st subject is science. His dad says he works very hard to help the family with chores and whatnot. Daniel has been sponsored for 8 years and has never received a letter from his sponsor. It’s kind of a strange thing, I guess we don’t think an impersonal letter from a stranger can mean anything, so often we don’t make it a priority to write to our sponsored children. But then you meet a 15 year old boy and see his face when he says “no letter” and the sorrow and even maybe shame in that is overwhelming. His younger brother receives letters from his sponsor, he showed them all to us, but none for him. I could see he wonders why… And after seeing evidence that he has such a tender heart it is easy to see what even one letter would mean to him… What it would mean to hear, “i am praying for you” “i care about you” “Keep working hard, we are proud of you” …
Which made me think about how our boys in the DR and Haiti must feel. We have sponsored them for almost 8 years, and send letters so rarely. Does this make them feel sad? What words are they longing to hear that WE should be saying to them? Do they wonder if we care about them? Do we truly care about them? This question plagues me tonight. If I can’t make room for them in my life, for regular prayer and correspondence, do I really love them at all? Even with all my knowledge of Compassion, and having already been to the field to see this ministry in 2004… How have I still missed what my most important commitment and ministry is to my sponsored children?

Back to this lovely family. They live in a 2 room house, that the grandfather owns (but he does not live with them). The house is Made from cement blocks with a leaky fiberglass roof. The first room has 2 beds and a couple shelves. One bed for the parents and one for 2 of the boys. The next room had a small kitchen area and another bed for the rest of the children. It was hard to see how those 3 small beds slept 8 people. But they said it sometimes gets very cold and they have to sleep close to keep somewhat warm. It rains a lot here, and the roof leaks. I asked how they stay dry to sleep when it rains and the father shrugged and said, “that is life here”. They have a small courtyard area with a table and chairs for eating and a small pen that houses the guinea pigs they raise. They sell some guinea pigs, but they also eat some, usually once a week on Sundays. That is the only meat they eat, just a tiny bit of guinea pig on Sundays. When we asked if they eat chicken they nodded yes and said- in June. (June is a big holiday month here.) the boys, however, get to eat meat 2 more times each week when they attend the project. And sometimes their siblings are able to come and share the food as well. You can see what a huge blessing it would be as parents to know your children are able to get better nutrition, it is a hard and humbling thing to not be able to provide for your children.

It took awhile for this to come out, but the father admitted finally that he does not have a job right now. He lost his job and since has been looking for work. He helps his neighbors with any farming when they have work, but for the last 2 weeks has had nothing. He had to take a loan for his wife to have a hernia surgery last week, and has no prospects for being able to pay it off.

We headed to a nearby cornfield that his relatives let him plant and harvest a little plot, and the began picking corn and the beans they grew around the corn stalks. He explained that they picked the corn at a certain time when it was dry, so they could cook the kernels into a drink that is heavy and makes their stomachs feel full. After lunch we attempted to help husk the corn and remove the kernels. Of course Daniel put us all to shame with his speed… I’m sure he finished 5 cobs for every one we did. They showed us how they dry and grind the corn to make cornmeal as well.

We shared a meal with them, which was a way to bless them because it was provided by the project and included chicken. W made sure to leave extras for leftovers, and a gift basket full of food as well.

I don’t believe that most of the family is saved, so if you think to pray for them it would be very needed.

After our home visits the children and women of the project prepared a special valentines day program for us, with traditional songs and dances. I love watching their shy faces as they perform… No doubt having been highly anticipating the chance to perform, and yet totally self conscious when the time came. They were so delightful to watch!

We broke into 5 groups with the children and played games together and each group had a piñata. We had the older students and the girls taught me some Ecuadorian games using a jump rope, and had a good laugh at my pathetic jump rope skills. I have never been very coordinated. but they were very patient and sweet.

Then we served them birthday cake ( it was a huge birthday party, for all of them) and pop, both of which they were excited to receive. I spent some time chatting with a little guy and sharing some candy and silly bands, he had never seen a candy necklace before and thought it was pretty special. He kept talking away to me, even though I couldn’t understand a word… He was super excited about a toothbrush he had received today from a Canadian teacher we have on the trip, and he did tell me through a translator that he was going to carefully clean his teeth before school tomorrow.

We were able to spend some time looking through the project books, their annual budget, the child files, the records of the monthly breakdown of money received. They even showed us the pages where parents must sign off to say they have received the birthday or family gifts sent by sponsors. They have official government issue receipts for every purchase, they carefully account for every dollar. I can say having seen the records first hand, this is an organization with integrity, who takes care of every dollar donated.

And now tonight… Wow this is going to be a long post! I hope you are still with me! Tonight we got to enjoy a musical performance by a very talented group of 5 brothers called the messengers of the king. They are almost all former Compassion children who have grown up to be musicians and teachers and even Compassion project directors! Their testimony was powerful for the value of sponsorship programs.

And now it is bedtime, and here I sit in a beautiful lodge by the lake (alpacas grazing outside our door), With both Jon and I frantically typing to try and get everything from our hearts to these posts. So much for one day to hold! Third world toilets, sunburns, altitude sickness, car sickness, incredible views, sweet eucalyptus breezes, beautiful faces, sweet hugs, awkward, stilted conversations, united worship, laughs and games, hands on work in the fields, sticky little hands to hold, dedicated pastors and volunteers to pray for, a fun and crowded ride in the back of a pickup truck (8 adults and 5 children!), and so much more!

Goodnight!