A Short Visit

When I hugged and kissed the girls goodbye on the morning of our departure, I couldn’t help but laugh at their faces.  Dry skin peeling off their noses revealed a pink layer underneath.  I told them that if the kids at school gave them a hard time, they should just ask: “Have you been to Chinauta lately?”  They were the more or less fortunate victims of a day spent in the sun, playing in a pool on a private ranch in la tierra caliente – the hot earth (though as one of the girls, Daniela, pointed out after further inspection: “I touched the ground, and it isn’t hot at all!”)

Pastora Natalia, the director of The Beehive, and I decided a few months ago that the girls deserved a little vacation.  The first group of girls we welcomed into the home have only been with us just over a year (since April 2008) and already they are earning high grades and awards in school, and they are treating each other more like sisters than rivals competing for attention.  The home’s environment is playful and loving, albeit noisy

We scheduled departure time for 6:00 a.m. which really meant 7:30 or 8:00 Colombian-time.  The girls barely slept the previous night, too riled up with excitement.  The majority had never swum in a pool before, and they were thrilled by the prospect of enjoying such a luxury.  With new (or borrowed) swimming suits underneath their shorts and t-shirts (nevermind it’s only about 50º on Bogota mornings), we set off in our rented van.  Shrieks of cow-spottings sprinkled the bellowed choruses of praise songs.  (By now, almost all of them know the church’s worship music by heart.)  I was already spent by the time we arrived at the ranch, but 12 pairs of little legs trembled with the anticipation of touching the crystal-chlorinated waters for the first time.

It’s fascinating how a new experience brings out someone’s personality.  Normally spunky and up for adventure, Jamie never ventured beyond 3 feet from the pool’s edge.  One dip below the surface pushed her towards emotion breakdown.  Karen, who is easy-going and rather spacey, squealed with delight when Jacob launched her into the air for a splash landing, even if she got water up her nose.  Little Sarita, the most comical 4-year-old I’ve ever met, went from fearful sobs to reckless dive-bombs down the slide within a few hours – urged by the cheers she received from us.  She’s quite the crowd-pleaser.

The one item we neglected to bring: sunscreen.  For some reason, no one considered the risk of the sun’s rays reflecting off water, intensified at an elevation of 7,000 feet.  So we all rode home that evening a bit toastier than before.  I have a theory that every child should get a sunburn as least once – right?  The other female volunteers were less nonchalant and slathered the girls with remedies of milk lotion and aloe vera.  Aida, our “Colombian mom” with whom we stayed, went so far as to cover her own ruddy wounds  with a mixture of aloe and shredded potatoes.  A few days later, we began to molt our skin like snakes.

The day at the pool was only one of the many highlights.  We also hosted a birthday party for Majerly (12) – one of the Beehive originals – and Ana Maria (9) – who arrived with her sister Lady a few weeks ago.  After arguing over who would wear what of my grandma’s gaudy antique jewelry, they proceeded to devour popcorn and cake, pull the balloons from the walls, and tackle Jacob, their living jungle-gym.  All children have an instinct for how to play with abandon, even more so girls who have never before attended a birthday party just for them.

As for the church body, our greatest cause for celebration was the size of the youth group.  It’s huge!  The group takes over the balcony space every Sunday.  When we left last January, Jacob and Oscar (worship pastor) were struggling to retain committed youth, although neither had the time to be actively recruiting kids or creating a program that would engage and challenge them.  Jacob suggested that Willington, a young father of three, take over as the official youth pastor.  He aspires to plant his own church someday, and what better training than building a ministry for teenagers?  Turns out he’s the perfect guy for the job.  His broad white smile and contagious joy have drawn many new faces into the church body, especially guys.  In a culture where men are often to machismo or too noncommittal to be faithful in their homes and church, this turnout is impressive.  However, we suspect that part of the attraction could be traced to a handful of pretty young ladies who also happen to attend the youth group.  That’s Natalia’s theory anyhow.  The important thing is that they are coming and learning to love Jesus passionately, in community.  They, along with the girls in the Beehive, are the future of the church.