6/17/2010

Asunción, Paraguay

Today we tried to call the village to see if someone could come pick us up. It was my first try at talking Maka to Tsemheyi,

also known as Andres, after two years of being away. Oh man, it felt awkward. I'll mention later who Andres thought it was who was calling. It is kind of funny. Ok, it was really funny, especially when he tells the story, several times, so that all comers hear. Anyway, it didn't look like anyone could come pick us up. I asked about the buses,which go by there. After I hung up, we talked about it, our options...

We really did not want the hassle of the buses, waiting, bouncing, bouncing, ETC [like last time]. So we decided to rent a vehicle. Doing this was a first for us down here. Always wondering, will I survive the traffic? If an accident happens, what then? Do I have full coverage, ETC? With fear and trepidation we pulled out of FAST Auto Rental [Actually today it was kind of slow, but they were very nice.] and headed back to the mission guest house and, after lunch, out to the Roque Alonso Indian village. Along the way I got a refresher on using a stick-shift and how to maneuver in and around traffic here. Leanne was white-knuckled and a bit wide-eyed for a while. We took some pictures along the way.

We went over to the Ulrich’s, which is about 2 maybe 3 blocks from the village. It was good to see them again and to get shown the work they are doing on the translation of the New Testament into Maka. There were three, maybe four, computer screens on, one with different English Bible commentaries available, another with the Greek, another with the Spanish and another with the Maka translation being completed on the book of Luke. A young Maka man was working there side by side with Matt. Apparently, they are getting close to the completion of the N.T. but every time they get close, the Maka translators are pulled away for this or that reason, unexplained illnesses or experiences. It would appear the enemy is hell-bent on stopping this. Pray for their health and protection.

We parked the car at the Ulrich’s to lessen the drama of our arrival. We wanted to just walk in as we did several years ago. The funny thing was we were not expected yet. Apparently they did not understand that we were to arrive in June.

As we walked into the area around the church building, Milaño, Servin, and others, were playing the stick game, almost as if they hadn't moved since we left two years ago. No women were in sight. Tsiweyenki, Tsemheyi’s wife, was out at the airport selling her “artesanía” and would be back later on in the evening. Tsemheyi at first was at his house eating lunch. So Leanne and I joined a group of men off to the side. They were there drinking “terere” [yerba mate] and listening to the Mexico-France game. We passed around our little photo album of the Cole extended family. They chuckled about this person then another. Comments were made about each of us kids and our kids. They wanted to know who our kids were and who was married and if they had kids or not.

Then Tsemheyi joined us. It was good to see him. He seemed in good health, though he said he had been ill several weeks ago. Rosemary told Leanne that she thought he had had several strokes. He told me that he had kind of lost his vision; that everything became blurry. He said now he could see much better.

Now to get back to the phone conversation I had with Tsemheyi…He was having fun playing this up as he told the guys who had gathered under the “galpón” next to where the men play that game with the sticks. Anyway, he chuckled saying that he thought he was talking to some “Chulupi” Indian, because he couldn’t speak Maka very well…He said he couldn’t figure out who the guy was he was talking to. I’m not sure if he put it all together until we showed up there, that I was this “Chulupi” guy. Of course this got everyone laughing! You really have to be here to fully understand the Maka sense of humor.

Continuing on with this theme…Some of the old hunting trip stories just had to be retold too. About Gene and Koko on one trip. I guess Koko’s flatulence drove Gene out of the mosquito net or something. Of course the sound effects are good to throw in too. There was one about me too. I guess they set me up to shoot these “ejie” [not sure how to spell that], a large stork, probably a 5-6’ wing-span. Anyway we were wearing the typical blinds made of bushes tied together over our heads to ambush the birds. Anyway the setting was perfect. Tsemheyi told me to shoot so I did, or actually I tried to, but the shell did not fire. So I guess I got frustrated and took off my camoflage attire and the birds flew away, much to their chagrin. And of course, the story of the sawed off shotgun shell had to resurface too. How he loves to tell this story! He said I asked him for some matches and that I proceeded to place the lighted match on top of the gunpowder. Under normal conditions gunpowder does not blow up. It just burns. Except that I forgot the primer! Well, the thing just blew up in my face. I was leaning over it, like any semi-intelligent kid would do. Oh, the gusto he employed telling how he heard the explosion and rushed to find me quite shaken up, hair burned on my face and head and asking him NOT to tell my Dad and Mom. Honestly, it is not that he would have loved to see me self-destruct. He was very concerned. He felt he had to take care of me…It is just that it was so funny! If you ever wonder why I laugh when culturally I shouldn’t, maybe this is why. Or maybe it is the after-effect of the explosion still. J

We had some serious conversation too…Folks who had died for this or that reason. Lisa, my sister’s father’s passing, several Indians who had died while trying to cross the busy highway not too far from here. And story after story of young men who had or were wasting their lives away under the tragic influence of alcohol. What a waste! Some gifted athletes, others with great leadership skills. The pain was heavy upon Tsemheyi. He spoke of some who have put the blame on him. That it was his fault. He said it was not his fault; that it was each person’s responsibility to make the right choices. How it hurts to see the lack of an apparent hope, a reason to make those right choices. What drives so many of the youth to take the shortcut to relief, a moment of pleasure? Change is needed. A reason, courage…Father, if I get the chance again give the words to say that might turn the light on in their hearts and minds. May I somehow create anew some hope, that in you there is strength to resist the temptations, to choose wisdom over convenience, to strive to create a future for their families and to reach out beyond to bring hope to still others with the message of the Gospel.

Around us were children playing, some with smudged faces, dirty from the last “dulce” or “meal”, others very clean and nicely dressed. Five or six were having a blast with a homemade kite.

One ran ahead pulling it while the others tried to catch the tail as it dipped down.Of course, there were those close by listening and enjoying the pictures and the adult talk. I was struck again with what will their futures be? Without a miracle it seems so dismal. God, please work mightily in these wonderful people to bring hope and a future of strength. May they instead be a model of your grace to all the surrounding Indian groups and local Paraguayans.

Well, got to go for now. We are headed out to the village. We are hoping to take Tsemheyi and Tsiweyenki out to the Quemkuket village across the river. Talk more later. Jerry