Down in the Valley and into the Pool

Yesterday, Tuesday, was a full and active day. It began by a rousing tractor drive into (even more) rural areas surrounding the small town of Buenavista. The aim of this trip was to get a real idea of how far these small clumps of homes actually were, and how difficult it would be for them to get to church. After that, a plan of action could be made accordingly, and hopefully another mission could be planted in one of the local houses. And when I say a rousing tractor ride, I do mean rousing. Never have any of us been on such a potted road, jolting over big river rocks and dipping into massive mud puddles that swallowed up the road entirely.

 

           

 After our return to Buenavista, and a vow that we would never drive a tractor over a road like that again if possible, we prepared to go to the pool. This was an outreach event Oscar and Omar came up with. They rented the town pool, invited the church, and welcomed anyone else who wanted to come. 

The turnout was twice what we expected. In the hot climate, everyone enjoyed the cool water, games of dominos, and a piping stew. The stew was made by collecting all of the vegetables and meats that the neighbors could scrape together, and then cooking everything in two pots that could be divided to feed the crowd. It was delicious. The people came, some walking long distances, armed with cups, plates, various Tupperware, empty pots, or anything else they could find to hold the stew. 

All the while, a commotion of swimming and talking was taking place. Kristin got seriously involved in a game of dominos, and I watched as a group of kids around 10 years old called “Em-ee-ly, Em-ee-ly, Mira!” And I did watch as they swam under water, did handstands, flips, and jumped off of the sketchiest diving board I have ever seen. It had been a good day when we walked back to the church.

Today, Kristin had to return home and left early in the morning. As Rachel said, “It will be like a missing wheel.” Although we will miss her very much, we are thankful for the time that she was with us this week. Later that day, Zenia took me grocery shopping. I could not help but compare it to the numerous trips to Nob Hill and Safeway, with a quick stop at Starbucks, that I have made with my mom. In Buenavista, all of the shops are only a block or two away. The supplies are astonishingly limited, ration cards were necessary, and often the item we wanted was not in stock. Without the pineapple, we returned home to prepare for the Vacation Bible School that is to come tonight!

Emily    

Monday in Buenavista

Today was a bit of a challenging day. Challenging, but rewarding. Sunday night, most of our team went to bed around two AM and got up at seven, so we could be out the door by eight. The small (air conditioned!) car picked us up at 8, and we were on our way to Buenavista. Pastor Omar and Zenia graciously welcomed us into their home, happy to see us. Soon after arriving, we left the house to visit the three missions, which are offshoots of Omar’s church. The missions are groups of people who live too far from the church to come to the services when they have no transportation. They are similar to small groups.

 We took a trailer hitched to a tractor, and rode hillbilly style down the potted, muddy road to the first mission. The group of people there was marvelously hospitable, happily talking and laughing with us. They were so happy to have us come from so far to be with them. They also served us fresh coconut juice, a straw stuck straight into the center of the coconut.

The next mission served us a beautiful array of native foods, complete with the ever-present mango juice and signature cup of strong coffee. Among the plates was a dish of goat. Cautiously, I took a bite, and was pleasantly surprised by its flavor; it is quite similar to carne asada. 

After a quick stop to cool off in the river, we returned to the cars, and the heat. To say we were hot, is an understatement. At the last mission, we conversed (Kristin and I half-guessing what was being said) and broke into joyous choruses of worship songs. After saying our goodbyes, we went home to rest and take COLD showers.        

Tonight was a special service for three lovely and elderly ladies who were to be baptized. The church was packed; all three missions road trucks into town, and the rest of the congregation was also present. We had to put chairs in the center isle and people began to form rows of seating outside on the porch! The service was beautiful. “Lively” is what Kristin accurately described it as; there is so much joy here. After the service Oscar, Rachel, Kristin, and I visited more with the people from the missions we had met earlier and the rest of the church family, bidding everyone goodnight and “God bless you” with a kiss on the cheek.


The people love to take pictures, and Kristin delighted an elderly woman by snapping a shot with her.

They quickly became good friends, speaking in broken English and Spanish, trying to find a mix of Spanglish that each could faintly understand, and smiling all the while. I too made a friend.


Spying and elderly gentleman across the room, I walked over and kissed his cheek and told him “God bless you” in Spanish. Excited, he began announcing to the crowd that he had found a new granddaughter; my Cuban Abuelo! Fantastico!

When the crowd left for the night, the team and Omar’s family retired to his house (which is connected to the church). Zenia knocked softly on the door as I was brushing my teeth and showed me a small bug in her hand; fireflies! So tonight we will rest while these small night lights are buzzing outside.

            -Emily

First Impressions

As I am sitting on my bed to write this, bottom bunk, between Kristin and Rachel, a swirl of voices is surging outside of the door. We are staying at the church. Our bedroom shares a wall with the sanctuary in fact. A quinceañera has just finished, and the excited guests are chattering over prepared boxes of various sweets. This is an appropriate finish to a couple of busy days.

Yesterday, Friday, We arrived at Miami airport three hours early, and were pleasantly surprised to whiz through the baggage check-in and security. We enjoyed a traditional Cuban breakfast of strong coffee (I had two cups) and pastries filled with either guava or cheese and spinach. On the plane, I got my first glimpse of the Atlantic Ocean; it is a soft blue snaked with endless islands. In Havana, it took us a little longer to get through security, but once we were able to leave the airport, we met Rachel’s nephew. He took us to his house, and we all crammed into the cozy living room. After chatting and another round of coffee, we left in an old Soviet car-- a Lada--to see the city. It is beautiful, sitting right on the ocean. There is a mixture of old and new. Many of the cars are from the 50s, but a large number of buildings are being renovated. We then leave for Remedios, a four hour car ride. We arrive a little after 9, and enjoy a late dinner with Pastor Alexis’ family. We then prepare for bed and drift off to the sounds of Oscar and Yudilen practicing for the service in the morning.

Today, Saturday, we got up a little before 8 in the morning, pulling on clothes set out the night before. We have breakfast with Pastor Alexis’ family. Fresh mango juice, sweet toast, cheese, a mango marmalade, and the ever-present cup of Cuban coffee adorn the table. 

Today is the senior service and lunch, and after breakfast we prepare to attend it. At 9:30, we join the seniors in the neat rows of wooden benches and try our hand at the Spanish worship songs. Passionate is a good word to describe these people. Their emotions are clearly read on their faces, whole-heartedly worshipping. A woman who is unable to speak mounts the stage and illustrates a song with her hands. Oscar also walks onto the stage, singing joyously in worship. Pastor Alexis gives his message, and then dismisses us to lunch. Outside in the courtyard, Kristin takes a platter of eight plates, I follow closely behind with a couple of bowls of dessert bread, and another man carries a tray of drinks. Inside, tables and chairs are set up, and the expectant seniors gladly receive their food.

After the lunch, we prepare to head to the beach with the youth. A rented bus stops by the church, and we all pile in. The drive takes around an hour, most of it over a man-made isthmus only as wide as the road, connecting the numerous cays. We stop at a small clump of shops, and the kids (and many adults) are able to sight see and bowl for the first time. The employees at the bowling alley were horrified with our skill, and seemed anxious for us to leave; but we were having a grand time, cheering when we got a strike and laughing when someone rolled a gutter ball (there was a lot of laughing). At the beach we all rushed into the water. It was bath water, a hot tub in comparison to the Pacific, and so ridiculously clear that you could watch for shells buried in the sand. 

It is a quiet ride home, and when we arrive, a few of the guests for the quinceanera are already there. The boys are outside waiting for the ceremony to begin. Almost everybody is dressed in their best. The church is crowded with family and friends, many of which stay afterwards to clean up for the Sunday service tomorrow morning.

            Emily

WHO'S DOWN IN CUBA?

We are ready.  Made it from San Francisco to Florida without any problems; connected with Kristin at the airport; enjoyed Rafael's and Miriam's hospitality, their jokes and love; ate Cuban food; and tomorrow  (Friday, July 20) we are up and running at 5 AM for our flight to Cuba.


Emily and Kristin are joining us (Oscar and Rachel) on this trip.  And introductions are in order.


MEET THE TEAM

I am Emily Davis, the youngest person on the team and very likely the most nervous. I am also the designated blogger; allow me to properly introduce myself:                        

At hardly eighteen years old, I am at a susceptible age, sponging up information and soaking in experiences. My worldview is just beginning to take a more substantial shape. The books I read, the classes I take, the church services I attend, the people I spend my time with, and my own prayer life are constantly shaving away and plastering onto a formless object that is quickly becoming my niche in God’s Plan. This past year, in my Bible class, we went through the book of James. This has always been my favorite book; this class taught me why. One of the key themes of this book was living out your faith, not because salvation is works-based, but because your faith naturally prompts you into action. This missions trip is one way for me to put what I learned in James into practice.                                                

In addition to living out my faith, I am excited to experience a new culture and meet new people. God’s people. My brothers and sisters in Christ. In America, I am sheltered from a day to day need for God, in the practical sense. I do not have to worry about food, or electricity, or transportation. All of the resources I need are either at the store or a mouse click away. I want to see how these people need God, and how they praise him for providing. This will be a new way for me to view people, to view God, and an opportunity to reassess myself in terms of where my values lie. I feel like I have so much to learn from the people in Cuba, and it is my hope to be used by God and to be open to all of the lessons that I can absorb. 

Kristin Sando

Four years ago I packed everything that would fit in my civic and drove to Los Angeles to work freelance, research non-profit work overseas, and be free to pick up and leave at a moment's notice.  Two years ago the dream to leave the country and do God's work started to become a reality when I packed everything that would fit in two suitcases and flew to China to work as an English teacher and serve the Family (wink wink) any way I could.  It was a year that proved to be the most stretching and beautiful year of my life thus far.  I was tossed around by Chinese culture, thrown on the waves of Communism, and torn apart from the lack of anything to distract me from the realities of cross-cultural life.  Fortunately, my Father and Jesus Christ were right there to put me back together into the person I needed to be to serve Him through the Mandate to spread His love.

I wouldn't change that year for five comfortable years in the States.  Although it looks like I will be living here in America for the foreseeable future, I'm hoping to get my fix of cross-cultural missions during this trip to Cuba.  Wonderful things in the name of Jesus are being done on the ground in this rather isolated country.  Our team has the immense pleasure of joining with Pastor Alexis' congregation in worshiping our Creator and instilling knowledge of Him who sent us in the hearts and minds of their youth.  

Our Father works in ways we cannot understand in order to bring us closer to Him.  When we walk with Him, He provides strength and peace and a bottomless love to carry us into eternity.  All He asks for are the few years we have on earth.  

Kristin