Friday, February 21, 2104

Today (Friday) was our last day at the village of Santa Cruz.  After rising to the daily chorus of crowing roosters and barking dogs, punctuated by fireworks at 6:15 a.m., we dined on another delicious breakfast from Delmay and boarded our favorite "Servicio Privado," piloted by the inimitable and unflappable Nehemias, he whose daily work is a game of inches: missing by inches the 16-wheeler screaming by at 65 miles an hour; missing by inches the stray dogs and hobbled horses that populate the roadsides of Honduras; missing by less than inches the various cars, vehicles and people around which he has to maneuver each day on our behalf as he bumps and bounces down the off-road tracks  from Copan to Santa Cruz.

Half of our group, the "newbies," spent the morning at Copan Ruinas, learning about Mayan culture from the 600s.  Tales of Thirteen Rabbits and Smoke Jaguar, plus lunar holidays marked by blood sacrifices, were part of their tour.

The rest of us hit the hills of Santa Cruz by 8:30, ascending its slopes to our final home, the casa of Anastasio.  Teodoro and Miguel awaited us, ready to mix another 18 bags of cement with 1170 shovels of sand and 45 gallons of water to make 9 batches of concrete to lay the floor of 4 rooms and a porch.  At the end of the afternoon, as our Jefe David says, we "met our goal and filled our quota."  We began the week certain that we knew the quantities and means of making this concrete, ending with our work at a much more productive level because we were making it the Honduran way.  Another reminder that Americans don't always know as much as we think!

The day provided its usual measure of humility.  I took part of the day to help carry bags of cement from one house to another, while climbing uphill.  Ugh!  Meanwhile Mike Huellmantel took a turn with the cement bags and then joined Peter in carrying bags of sand.  Ugh!  I then took a break from the group and helped the Honduran men unload a truckload of 300 bags of cement.  In the midst of that job, I was anointed with a moment of grace that slid its way down onto my shoulder.  Each of the men had an empty sand bag that they put on their shoulders, to help keep the cement dust off their skin and clothes.  I had no such bag.  After carrying 6 or 7 cement bags, I stepped up to the truck bed for my next load and just before the 90 pound bag was placed upon my shoulder, an empty sand bag slid under it and kept the cement dust cloud from adding to the layer already on my head and neck.  I never knew grace could be so rough as a sand bag but still so graceful.

After our work was concluded, Alison and Chrissy entertained the children with games of Red Light/Green Light, Que Hora Es Mr. Oso (What Time is it Mr. Fox) and Pato Pato Gonzo (Duck, Duck, Goose).  Alison was the favorite person to tag, no matter what game it was.

At 4 p.m. we all gathered at the school yard (about 100 square meters of hardpacked dirt and clay carved out of the hillside) for an assembly.  The leaders of the Honduran teams offered words of praise to God and of thanks to the members of GPMC, while we distributed gifts to the families.  Men stood on one side of the sun-drenched hill while women stood on the other, little children age 2 to 12 running between both groups and otherwise occupying the middle, draping themselves upon Loco Susanna (Acton) and Alison.

During our devotional in the evening, Julie Huellmantel told the group about her departure from the worksite.  As she said goodbye to the men with whom we worked, they had tears in their eyes.  The same could be said of us.

Mike Huellmantel led us in a wonderful devotional, which included a mashup version of U2's "New Song" and Bob Marley's "Every Little Thing."  We communed with tortillas held in Honduran pottery and remember that by the Spirit of Christ, we were at table with Teodoro, Adelmo, Maria, Nolbia and Antonio, as well as with Jim and Mary Garlough, Karol Swenson, Kathie Morinelli and Scott Turner.

We wrapped up the night with our annual Paper Tortilla awards.  Each recognition is part affirmation, part poking fun.  Sue Acton received the Creativo Use of Espanolo Award for her Spanish skills.  Dave Tucker was given the Gumby Award for his flexibility.  I will let others tell you the rest.

It is up to someone else other than me to try and summarize our trip, if such a thing is possible.  I will simply say that we saw and felt the love of Jesus Christ on a hillside in Santa Cruz and in a conference room at the Buena Vista Hotel in Copan.  We hope to bring the same to you when we return, trusting that God will help us in translating our experiences to you.  Thank you to everyone who prayed for us and supported us.  God has multiplied your gift in ways you cannot know and we are all the better for it.

Grace and peace,

Peter