the only constant

I heard it once said that the only constant in life is Change. I have seen this proved true again and again, and being in El Salvador is no different:

Last Tuesday two new missionaries joined our ranks: Jason and Kenny from Canada. Kenny is from El Salvadoran descent and can speak Spanish fluently (or so I've heard. I haven't actually seen him in action). Jason is just about as white as they come. The kids were making fun of him a bit the first day, saying that he looked a bit like an albino. Poor guy. No, he's not albino, he's just really white. So Kenny and Jason have been eating in our house when they feel like it and using a Shop Vac to rid the ceilings of certain houses of bat guano. Such a glorious job.

On my way home from the pool on Sunday, Gabby, the daughter of House 3's house parents, told me that their family was leaving on Wednesday (that would be today). Apparently, her father is going to go live with relatives in the United States and work hard to send money back to his family, and in time he hopes to earn enough so that they can own their own land here in El Salvador. Who knows how long that will take, and meanwhile, he'll be leaving behind his three children (a girl and two boys, ranging in age from 3-11) as well as a house full of boys of all ages. I really hate to see them go. In my opinion, they were one of the best, if not the best set of house parents we had. Plus, Derek, their little three-year-old had just started talking to me and calling me by name. He's such a sweetie! However, on Monday most of House 3 came down with some sickness, possibly related to food they had eaten the night before. The house father was one of the ones to get it, and now he can't go anywhere since he's sick. I think it'll clear up in a day or two, and then he can continue on with his plan, but for now they're still here.

My morning job helping Maestra Sandra has proved to be a little bit more involved than I had first anticipated. Instead of having half of the morning off, during which I "watch the books" in the library, I work with the kids all morning. I help prepare homework and crafts for the kids as well as help them with the challenges of gluing pieces of paper inside of a circle or other such Kindergarten tasks.

We have just become an independant church group. We now meet in our own multi-uso building (like a gym) instead of the one in the ECAS elementary school. We have hired our own chaplain and we will now have worship during the week on Sunday and Wednesday nights instead of Tuesday and Thursday nights.

I have found a certain comfort in climbing trees. I never climbed that many trees when I was young, probably because of the shortage of good climbing trees in my area, so I am now making up for it. Whenever I feel like some time by myself, I just find a tree and climb it. The trees we have here are great--easy to get into with lots of room to sit in the branches without anybody seeing that you're there. I love it. If the kids see me start to climb, they call me a "caballon," meaning "big horse." Basically, I'm still a child at heart, and they just can't understand why I would want to be that way.

...but some things still remain the same:

When my turn comes around to accompany the kids on their Sabbath afternoon outreach project, I cringe. Our goal is to deliver food and cheer to the same five poor families that we helped at Christmas time, but each time we go, my group ends up in somebody else's house, and I'm not sure that they appreciate it all that much. No matter how hard I try to be prepared and have things to do for the kids in the house, we always end up with lots of blank silence, the mother appearing bored and I feeling guilty for my wealth. I feel almost as though our presence is saying, "Look at us! We're so good we brought you food. Now be thankful!" and I just hate it. I wish we could either just visit some shut-ins to give them company or give our food to the poor as anonymously as possible.

I still love Anne of Green Gables. I watched it for the first time in ages last night with a bunch of other SMs. It was good, and it reminded me of the time Breezy and I dressed up as Diana Berry and Anne Shirley for a Skate Night at school, but nobody could tell who we were supposed to be.