I was talking with my sister the other day and she declared that compared to my life in Colombia her's is pretty mundane with no exciting stories. Well I've got some advice for all of you who think that: live today looking for excitement; looking for something noteworthy. I bet you can find something. Maybe it's a bit easier for me at this point, but I'm sure the longer I'm here the less I'll have to comment on. But for now, I feel overwhelmed with the amount I could write on. Maybe I'll write a book. Memoirs of a gringa? Yeah..I like that.
Alright. Today is Sunday. Debbie and I met up and went to a new church. It was wonderful. There is an interesting trend I'm picking up on though. At the 2 churches I've visited in Colombia the same thing has happened: the pastor asks for new people to raise their hands (no big deal), then they ask that you stand up (now I'm feeling uncomfortable), then they direct you to a room where you repeat the sinners prayer. By now I'm wishing I never stood up. I look to my left, my eyes meet Debbie's and we decide to sit down. Yes, I am the silly gringa yet again. I feel questioning eyes all around me, but hey people, I love Jesus already. Let's be real, me going into a room with you will not save my soul. They do not know this though and I feel so awkward. Ha!Oh well. God sees my heart and can speak my language. lol Maybe next time I'll just go into the room and see what it's like to hear the gospel Colombian style. I'm sure, if anything, it would be an incredible blog post....we'll see how bold I'm feeling next week!
After church Debbie and I went to lunch with her sister-in-law (I think that's the relation) Noemi who is about 65, Noemi's daughter Claudia, and Claudia's 2 boys David and C. (I don't remember his name. oops. lol). We went to this chicken place called Frissby. It is pretty much Colombian style KFC. One great difference, instead of mashed potatoes and biscuits on the side, you get beans and rice. I told you, these people love their rice. Unfortunately I didn't get fried chicken, BUT I learned an incredible cultural fact: they eat their chicken with plastic gloves. Where you'd find ketchup packets at our fast food places in the United States, they have these little glove packets. Ha! It was awesome. I saw these little things on our tray with pictures of hands on them. I asked Claudia what it was and she said "guantes". I figured they were little moist owlets to wash my hands, but then I realized my translation issue as I watched her take them out. The boys, Noemi and Debbie all followed suit. Our little family with plastic gloves all eating chicken....and this is normal. I'm excited to hang out with them again.
Alright. Today is Sunday. Debbie and I met up and went to a new church. It was wonderful. There is an interesting trend I'm picking up on though. At the 2 churches I've visited in Colombia the same thing has happened: the pastor asks for new people to raise their hands (no big deal), then they ask that you stand up (now I'm feeling uncomfortable), then they direct you to a room where you repeat the sinners prayer. By now I'm wishing I never stood up. I look to my left, my eyes meet Debbie's and we decide to sit down. Yes, I am the silly gringa yet again. I feel questioning eyes all around me, but hey people, I love Jesus already. Let's be real, me going into a room with you will not save my soul. They do not know this though and I feel so awkward. Ha!Oh well. God sees my heart and can speak my language. lol Maybe next time I'll just go into the room and see what it's like to hear the gospel Colombian style. I'm sure, if anything, it would be an incredible blog post....we'll see how bold I'm feeling next week!
After church Debbie and I went to lunch with her sister-in-law (I think that's the relation) Noemi who is about 65, Noemi's daughter Claudia, and Claudia's 2 boys David and C. (I don't remember his name. oops. lol). We went to this chicken place called Frissby. It is pretty much Colombian style KFC. One great difference, instead of mashed potatoes and biscuits on the side, you get beans and rice. I told you, these people love their rice. Unfortunately I didn't get fried chicken, BUT I learned an incredible cultural fact: they eat their chicken with plastic gloves. Where you'd find ketchup packets at our fast food places in the United States, they have these little glove packets. Ha! It was awesome. I saw these little things on our tray with pictures of hands on them. I asked Claudia what it was and she said "guantes". I figured they were little moist owlets to wash my hands, but then I realized my translation issue as I watched her take them out. The boys, Noemi and Debbie all followed suit. Our little family with plastic gloves all eating chicken....and this is normal. I'm excited to hang out with them again.
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