Ecuador Photo Album - July 2012

Sabbath's End

Three months of a different pace of life.  Three months to be free of the normal pressures of ministry.  Three months to gain fresh perspective, to plot the course ahead, and to have time to pause often to rest and reflect.

This has truly been a gift, and I am thankful.

Tomorrow I return to the office, and life resumes.  There are decisions to make, consultations to have, scheduling, planning and visioning to do.  Tomorrow I must hit the OFF on the alarm clock and rise to greet the new day with fresh purpose and energy.

This blog has been a great place to record activities and experiences and especially to be a report on our time in Quito.  I am not sure when next I'll post.  I plan to keep the blog open and will soon post a collection of photos from our time in Quito.  It may be that there will be more to say, more to blog about, we'll see.  It may be quiet here for a while, and maybe I'll re-cast The Sabbatical Diaries as something else more relevant to now.

Thank you for checking in here!  Here's to a great sabbatical!

Last Night In Quito

We had dinner with the Erazo's as well as Rosa and Quinya from the Compassion staff team, delicious Tex-Mex and ice cream cake, and then we looked at my 1000+ iPhone photos together from this most amazing month.

Bags are packed and tomorrow we head to the airport at 6:20 am to catch our Miami flight.

Farewell, Quito, Hasta Pronto!

Where Has The Time Gone?

In 2 days, our Quito adventure draws to a close. In 9 days, my sabbatical also concludes and life returns to the 'normal' that seems like a distant memory.

The proverb "All good things must
come to an end" has been on my mind lately. We have had an abundance of Good Things over the past months, and especially this July in our time here in Quito. My heart is full of thanks to God.

Was this trip easy? Kinda sorta. As we expected, we had some sickness to deal with during our time here. Fatigue, some fairly minor stomach ailments (a polite word that encompasses diarrhea and it's evil twin, constipation), colds, sinus issues (take 9,000 feet plus of altitude, add various types of weather and dryness, mix in Quito's horrible air quality, and you get lots of yucky, achy ugh). Dealing with 'Tiempo Latino' and unpredictable plans and schedules wore us down from time to time. And then there were those moments when someone was just missing friends at home or some other familiar thing, or someone had had enough people and excitement and sight-seeing for one day and was just plain cranky. We reminded ourselves that we would have faced these issues whether we were in Quito or in Waterloo, so may as well face them here!

But that's only a smaller part of the whole picture. Here are some Good Things that come to mind that made the trip pure joy:

- the love and care of the Erazo family for us and all they have done to make our time here the best possible experience. Saying goodbye on Tuesday morning is going to be hard for all of us.
- time with missionary friends and acquaintances - the Estevez's, the Ronquillos, the Jensens, the Saavedras, plus getting to know the Vivancos and Brad Miller. What a varied group of people, different ages and stages, but we've discovered that they, like us, have hopes and dreams and wonderings about where God is leading them and what he wants to do in and through them. They all took us under their wings and graciously offered whatever help they could to the Canadian family visiting for a month.
- What words can describe the sights we have seen? The bustling, always fascinating city of Quito, the mountains, volcanic lakes, quaint villages nestled among titanic snowcaps, the flowers that bloom in a never-ending torrent all year long, the exotic fruits, the beaches, the antique architecture of La Ronda like something out of a pirate movie. This was truly a vacation of epic proportions in so many ways!
- Carmen Bajo. The focus of our ministry, and the saints both young and old who give their lives to continue to build and to be a community of faith in the midst of hapless chaos. Each time we went to the Project or the church, or to an event organized for the kids or the young people, we looked forward to greeting them warmly in the typical Ecuadorian fashion. Hugs and a kiss on the cheek for the ladies, hugs and a handshake for the men. The culture here is polite but also VERY warm. I will miss it when we get back to our more reserved Canadian culture. I
can't hope to include every name here, but here are a host of the good people we count as dear friends: Rosa, Quinya, Rocio, Patricia, Vicenta, Maria, Laura Sr., Laura Jr.. Liz, Esperanza, Ruben, Isabel, Carolina, Victor, Andres, Faviola, Daniel, Lupe, Jose Manuel, and so many others.
- The Kids. Some kids we managed to learn and remember their names. As often as possible we would greet them by name. To see them brighten at being recognized was reward enough. To see Amanda and Kayleigh playing and interacting with various ones throughout the month was so cool.
- The Creekside and Grace Bible Chapel teams. Time spent alongside both amazing teams was rich and rewarding as we got to know others better in serving alongside each other. That's one of the real blessings of being part of The Church. Our common faith in the One who brought us all together bonds us into one Body.
- Worship in two languages. I'm getting more adept at switching mid-song from Spanish to English! Having the guitar handy has been a joy. I
fulfill something very unique and special in my calling when I lead worship in song. This morning I led a
circle of over 70 people from two cultures in worship to the same Lord and Saviour of us all. It was a joy and a privilege! I am also amazed and blessed to see a passion for worship among young people here in Quito. There is so much awesome music and songs being written and sung in Latin America, yes, they also love Hillsong United like we do, but they also have some equally great voices of their own!

Tomorrow is our last Sunday in Carmen Bajo, and Monday we pack and see and do a few final things, spending every minute possible with the Erazo family, before this Good Thing draws to a close. We will be thoughtful and prayerful as we return to our home and native land to finish out the rest of the summer and look ahead to what will undoubtedly be a challenging Fall.

And we will never forget this past
month in Quito.

A Sad Day in Carmen Bajo

Wednesday afternoon was, for me, the most emotionally difficult experience of our trip so far. It was the day that Rocio and her family buried her 27 year old son Danny, who was suddenly and tragically taken in a car accident over the weekend.

There had been a viewing and a service on Tuesday night at the church, and over 300 people had turned out, way more than could fit into the sanctuary. Fabian asked me to bring my guitar and lead some singing, which was, as it always is when I am asked to provide music for funeral services, an opportunity to hopefully bless a family in grief and to help provide comfort in those moments. Monday night's service was a subdued event. Our dear friend Rocio, who normally exudes a warm and serene joy, looked understandably drawn and tired, but she was surrounded by family, friends and fellow-church members as many came at the end of the service to pay last respects to a young man everyone thought the world of.

The evening service was mainly a message from Pastor Fabian, followed by singing and a viewing line for the casket and condolences for the family. We left around 10 pm, but I understood the next morning that family remained with the body overnight to keep vigil.

The next day, Wednesday, dawned warm and sunny, and we met up with the team from Grace Church in Guelph for their first morning in Carmen Bajo. God's timing in the middle of this tragedy is evident, as their team construction project this week is to pour the floor and the supports for a house for Ronsanjella, one of Rocio's daughters who has three children of her own, and who has had some recent serious health issues. Ronsanjella and her kids are
currently living with Rocio, and the death of Danny has put a further strain on all of them living in close quarters. Hopefully the team can be an encouragement to the family to help get construction well under way.

The burial was scheduled for Wednesday afternoon, and again Fabian asked me to be ready to lead singing. Sending the girls and Carina back to our apartment, I headed with many others back to the church. Again the place was packed for another service, in which we sang, Fabian again preached, and we also heard from grandmother Isabel and also from Rocio. She has had a year of trial after trial, and this latest blow, the loss of the son she felt closest to, must be almost impossible to cope with. Rocio spoke through tears of how this has been a year of chastisement for her personally, but she still puts her trust and hope in Christ and that God will somehow redeem what has been lost.

There is a moment in a funeral proceeding when the finality of what has happened has to set in. It's usually when the casket is closed and the body begins it's final journey. At the end of the service there was a noticeable agitation among the large gathering of family as the young men stepped forward to carry the casket to the rented truck for the drive to the El Batan mausoleum. Everyone either hitched a ride or took public transit to get there, about 20 minutes from the church. Again Fabian asked me to bring the guitar for the committal service. I was the only gringo now, standing out I'm sure in the sea of Quiteno faces. Santi drove a carload of us to El Batan and we parked, and then waited for the casket to arrive.

Danny was to be interred in the mausoleum, and it was my first time in such a place. Danny's final resting place was at the top level of one of the walls, and the casket was going to need to be lifted up by his family members via a scaffold-stairway that looked secure enough, except that this part of the wall was on an incline. We were nervous as we looked at this arrangement, wondering how easy it was going to be to safely get the casket into the tomb amidst the growing crush of mourners. Santi and I held back a bit with Fabian as I figured out the chords for a well-known Spanish chorus that Fabian suggested for when the time came.

After several minutes of waiting, the family arrived, Danny's casket on the shoulders of 8 of his brothers, relatives and friends. You could hear
the wailing echoing down the white halls as they wound down the circular ramp ways, and there was a
growing sense of anguish and dread as they approached the scaffold.

This was when everything really
broke. Everyone began to cry and
wail as the casket was carefully but precariously lifted up onto the stairs. At this moment a couple of the family members began shrieking and pushing towards the casket, not wanting to let go. There was a real moment of near hysteria and I saw Fabian and Grace and other members of the family trying to restrain and comfort those who were in utter anguish. Everything was made all the more intense with the
precarious position the scaffolding
was in, plus the fact that the ramp way had a 12-foot drop on one side with only a 1-foot abutment. If anyone had lost their balance, we would have had a serious injury on our hands.

My heart, all of our hearts, went out to the family in those moments. Canadian funerals, at least in my family and culture, are rather subdued affairs. I was not prepared for the anguish, the screams, the hand-wringing, and the intense yelling as at one point one of Danny's sisters had to be physically restrained.

In that moment, I recalled the
story of Lazarus, and of Jesus, when He finally approached the tomb
of His dear friend, and how it says "Jesus wept", but we understand it to mean He cried out in deepest anguish.
It is one of the most moving records of Jesus, in His humanity, feeling the very same desolation in the face of death that we do, that these dear ones were feeling in the last moments they had with what remained of a dear brother, son and friend.

The casket was somehow safely lifted, hoisted, turned and then slid into the hole in the wall, and a worker immediately stepped up, placed the white sealing stone and mortared it into place. In this mausoleum, some seals are ornately designed headstones with sculptured or painted portraits of Jesus, Mary or even the deceased themselves as they would be remembered by their families. Rocio and her family are not in any way well-off, so his headstone is simple white with his name roughly stenciled in black. It is up at a the top of the wall, they won't easily be able to touch it, or leave flowers or pictures or other mementoes as the years go by without someone getting them a ladder.

We wept. I believe Jesus wept along with us in that moment. I believe he feels for this family that has endured so much for so long, with
not much comfort in sight. And yet we also believe that because Jesus lives, there is yet hope for Danny, for Rocio, for the family, and for all of us.

Please pray for a dear friend in Carmen Bajo

Late last week our hosts received a call from Rocio, one of the staff members of the Compassion project, telling them that her son Danny (27 yrs) had been in a car accident in Guayaquil and was in a coma.

Rocio made arrangements to head down there right away to be with her son, but sadly, yesterday she called to inform us that Danny had passed away.

Many of you who have been to Carmen Bajo know Rocio and have felt her warm and joyful demeanor. This sudden loss is a terrible shock for her and for the community. Danny's body is being brought back to Quito, and funeral arrangements are being made.

Your prayers for Rocio and her family at this time would be much appreciated. Please pray that the rest of the family will come together in unity alongside Rocio as they remember Danny's life.

This is a picture I took of Rocio 2 weeks ago:

Pictures of Carmen Bajo Church, Quito, Ecuador

Here are some shots of the exterior of Carmen Bajo Church. This is the property we are helping to develop into a church-community centre.

Hello again, Cotopaxi

Two days ago we took a trip to Mount Cotopaxi, the iconic snowcap that is the most famous of Ecuador's many volcanoes.

I have many memories of this mountain, and as we approached on the rough, winding dirt road, it seemed fitting to put the soundtrack to the first Lord of the Rings movie on my iPod, for this truly is a piece of Middle Earth! The brassy, bold and noble orchestrations somehow fit the harsh beauty of the place.

As we made our way through the pine forests, Cotopaxi loomed larger under a covering of cloud, almost reluctant to show herself. We could see the lower snow line peeking through the mist. The sky is big, as are the foothills. Perspective gets distorted when you see people at a distance dwarved by the barren hills.

After stopping at a small lake for a moment, we drove past a place that we used to camp at back when I was a kid, one of the most unforgettable campsites I've ever been to. With Cotopaxi almost right overhead, we would pitch our tents on the scrubby plain next to a small stream of the coldest, purest, clearest water I've ever had. I recall the cold, the vast empty spaces, the hills, and the wild horses that still roam the land singly and in packs. Those were the best campouts!

I also remember we had our Grade 8 year-end class overnight there as well. I, a rather nerdy fellow awkwardly trying to fit in with the girls, was feeling the pangs of adolescence growing within mind and body. That's a fancy way of saying there was lots of "Awkward!"

An interesting memory I have of that overnight was a night-time walk through a wooded area several of us took with our home room teacher, Mr. Erickson, during which some in the group tried to explain the plot lines of The Lord of the Rings to those of us who hadn't (yet) read the books. Cotopaxi, somehow you will always be associated with Tolkein's world for me!

Back to the present, though! We piled back into Fabian's van and he began the crazy drive through the sandy switchbacks up to the parking area that lies several hundred feet down from the Refuge, where climbers all begin their ascent into the snow and ice.

It suddenly seemed like we were driving on the moon! Having read lots of Westerns, I realized we had left the tree line far below, and now what sparse vegetation and grass was growing was quickly giving way to a desolate rockscape.

After some wild driving up and up, we also noticed the wind was quite strong.
As Fabian parked the van we peered through the fog and rain to see the yellow Refuge building way up in the distance.

Now the Erazo's had warned us it would be cold, and this is where my own hubris is revealed. We, of course, are Canadians! We know, and are accustomed to, the cold. We had chuckled when they all loaded up that morning with scarves and toques and blankets, plus extra pairs of pretty
much every piece of clothing. We had humoured them by bringing a few extra layers, thinking it would be cold, but not realizing it would be COLD, and RAINY and WINDY!

(Let me be quick to add that my dear and sensible wife did take the Erazo's warnings more seriously than I did, out of her love and concern for our children!)

Cotopaxi, today You humbled this Canadian, put him in his place, and gave him a renewed respect for your immense wildness. Eagerly,
I set out with Raquel, Andrea, Santi and Fabian, to plod our way up the steep slopes of loose volcanic sand. I was wearing one pair of jeans, two layers of shirts, one cardigan sweater and my light and (sort of) waterproof Adidas jacket. On my head I had my ball cap, and a last-minute ingenuity, my bandana wrapped around my head to cover my ears. I had no gloves, thinking my jacket pockets would suffice. I had a bit of water in my canteen, and a sucker in my mouth for some energy.

We began the slow but steady climber's pace straight up the side of Cotopaxi. But Cotopaxi sensed my Canadian know-it-all pride and decided to step up the gale and the sleet, and within minutes I was soaked, my exposed skin freezing, and the Refuge still a long way up
ahead. Wisely, Carina had stayed with
Grace and the girls in the shelter of
van. Good call, hon!

Somewhere far ahead, Raquel was already well on her way. Her older sister Andrea was about 100 feet ahead of me and slowing. Fabian started, but soon was feeling unwell and so headed back to the van. Santi soon enough caught up to me and passed me and Andrea, catching up with Raquel.

I broke. Cotopaxi, ya broke me! There came a point of being soaked and cold and freezing that made me nervous. After shouting ahead to Andrea over the wind to say I needed to head back down (she, too, realized she was unprepared for the wet cold and headed down shortly after me) I started slipping and stumbling down toward the van that seemed so tiny and far below. Soaked and chilled, I gladly welcomed a cup of coffee
from the thermos and my seat back in the shelter of the van, to await Raquel and Santi, who did make it to the Refuge and back, cold and tired but also maddeningly sound in mind and body!

It was so good to see you again, Cotopaxi. You are a treasured part of my growing up years, a place of wildness and unbending grandeur. I will come back again sometime
maybe make it to the Refuge - hey, maybe even further up into the ice fields! It was good to be reminded how frail I am. I'll come
back more respectfully prepared next
time.

"we will not fear though the mountains crumble into the sea ....". -Psalms

Ecuador through Kayleigh's Eyes

Favorite thing so far?
Everything! Meeting Kamila (our sponsor child) Being in the VBS program, and getting to know the nice kids.

Hardest thing so far?
Nothing!

Favorite person or people you've seen so far?
Santi, Raquel and Andrea (Fabian and Grace's young adult-age kids)

What do you like about Carmen Bajo?
The church there.

What do you like about Quito?
The mountains.

Are you glad you are here? Yes.

What are you missing back home?
Buttons ! (the cat).

Farewell to the Creekside team (Una Esperanza)

This morning was the farewell to the Creekside team who have been here for the past 10 days. We have enjoyed teaming up with them as a family for many of their activities. Despite some illness among team members (pray for Helen, especially today, on the flights home!) this team was stellar. I saw many tears and lots of hugs as they made their goodbyes.

They say missions, whether short-term or long, must always be first and foremost about relationships. The Una Esperanza team has taken the ball further down the field - great job gang!

Godspeed home!

Ecuador through Amanda's Eyes

Favorite thing so far?
Going to the coast.

Hardest thing so far?
Understanding all the spanish!

Favorite person or people you've seen so far?
Kamila and her friend Andrea, Quinya, Rosa and Maria.

What do you like about Carmen Bajo?
The kids that run up to you and hug you!

What do you like about Quito?
The mountains!

Are you glad you are here?
Ya, I guess so :-)

What are you missing back home? Buttons (our cat) and my friends.

Crazy But Not Clenched

A few nights ago, after getting the girls to their first normal bedtime in well over a week, Carina and I sat down together in the quiet of the apartment we are now staying in to debrief on the day and our thoughts and feelings.

We had spent the morning in Carmen Bajo helping out with Vacation Bible School along wih the Creekside team. It was a great morning of saying hello to kids, giving them hugs or picking them up and carrying them around, and of course, if they see you have an iPhone they want a picture and then they want to play Angry Birds !

Carmen Bajo staff did a fantastic job of the opening worship and the main teaching session (this week they are focusing on 5 Covenants God Made in the Old Testament). The Creekside team's role is to help with pre-VBS games, and then with crafts and activities after the open session.
Today there were over 150 kids onsite, so it was busy!

It was delightful to see our sponsor child Kamila once again, and to get to know Andrea, the friend she brought along to VBS. All the girls were happy to see each other, and of course I was soon in demand as a human jungle gym. Truly, Kamila had become my 'third daughter', often jumping up into my arms and asking for a candy with great abandon.

We all went in with the youngest kids to their classroom for the craft time. It was so cool to see my girls connecting with kids, and even helping some of the younger ones out a bit as well as they worked away with paper, crayons, scissors and glue (yes, 3-year olds manipulating grownup scissors!). Some of the kids get right down to it and do the craft in minutes. Others are still a wee bit young and need lots of help, and there were some kids who seemed really lethargic, making me expect that these are kids who are chronically undernourished. Still, we did all we could to encourage each child, praising their handiwork as they coloured, cut and pasted Noah's Ark and the animals onto construction paper.

After helping serve 220 kids lunch, we were treated by the kitchen staff and volunteers to a delicious lunch of locro de papas (potato soup), fried plantains, rice, Yapingachos (potato-patties), and the ever present Aji (a-hee) sauce. We are so moved by the hospitality that is extended to us every day by the people of Carmen Bajo, many who invest countless unpaid hours to help maintain the program for the kids. They are true heroes!

Everybody pitches in. They work until the work is done. The pace is, at times, every bit as frenetic as in any North American operation, but there is still a sense of joy and easy camaraderie. The kids are the ones who ultimately benefit from that spirit in the nourishment they receive daily. It is so sweet to see the children, especially the little ones, served lunch with tenderness and love.

The one thing we see so clearly about life in Quito is the easy community that pervades all of life. In Canada, life is crazy, and I am usually what I'll call 'clenched', let the word speak to you what it will. I am dogged, determined, frenetic, stressed, and often longing for more community while not really willing to make it a priority. To make community a priority feels like letting go of a lot of the 'control' I think I have in life, so I prefer to manage by clinging to a frantic self-sufficiency. I am seeing more clearly how isolating that becomes compared to the way life is done together here in Ecuador.

Our friends in Quito get stuff done, don't get me wrong, but in the midst of craziness they aren't uptight, and they always favour the togetherness over the task. We in North America seem to be trying so hard, perhaps too hard, to 'have more community', but we still
often see it as another 'healthy-eating obligation' on our to-do list. Togetherness just happens down here, and is the natural default to them
that 'cocooning' is to us. Life here is crazy, but not clenched.

It's got me thinking ...